


Modern Complexities

by WinterDreams



Category: Servamp (Anime & Manga)
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Alternate Universe - Foster Family, Canon-Typical Violence, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Eventual Happy Ending, First Meetings, Fluff and Angst, Fluff and Humor, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, I Don't Even Know, M/M, Past Abuse, Sakuya and Kuro are memelord trash, Slow Burn, Swearing, abuse and misuse of memes, swearing typical of university students
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-17
Updated: 2017-05-14
Packaged: 2018-09-18 04:14:20
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 11
Words: 49,747
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9367511
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WinterDreams/pseuds/WinterDreams
Summary: There is a student.There is a professor.There is Mahiru.And there is a protective instinct and a rare, pure desire to reach out a warm hand to everyone that has grown alongside and inside Mahiru’s bones from the moment he drew his first breath.





	1. Chapter 1

It’s certainly not the first time Mahiru has vehemently argued with a professor in the middle of lecture, but it _is_ the first time he does so for the sake of someone else.

Later, when anyone asks, Mahiru will give them his patented answer of the decision being simple. They will laugh, or stare at him, or nod, anyone who knows Mahiru expecting such an answer. Those who don’t know him either shake their head and walk away, or argue that it would have been simpler to just _not_. He rarely explains himself to them, but if he did, this is how it would go.

There is a student. Sleeping in the middle of lecture with his arms as pillows in the middle of the lecture hall without making a single disruptive sound. 

There is a professor. Lecturing in the middle of some two hundred odd students who are exhausted from studying while the professor oozes a dismissive arrogance.

There is Mahiru. Riding on two hours of sleep and three cups of coffee and no lunch, and a sense of moral righteousness that not even his exhaustion can quench.

The professor stops mid-lecture, grabs the sleeping student’s pale hair with a look of utter distaste, and drags the student to wakefulness.

The other students stare as the sleeping one blinks up at the professor. Mahiru sits only three seats away and so he can see the dark smudges beneath the other student’s eyes. He can see that the boy’s skin is too pale, the eyes too feverish, and his skinny body too undernourished. Not an uncommon look on the university population, but accentuated by the ridiculous blue hoodie the boy wears, and the way he slumps in his seat when the professor releases him.

“So you think your dreams are worth more money than this lecture?” the professor asks.

The fact that Mahiru has already silently disagreed with several of the man’s lecture points doesn’t help the situation.

The student, meanwhile, says nothing. He looks at the professor like he’s already resigned himself to getting belittled.

“So you think sleeping and silence is the solution to your piss-poor grades?” the professor continues instead of walking away, and Mahiru is fairly certain the professor doesn’t even know the student’s name. _Mahiru_ doesn’t know half of the students’ names, recognizes them purely based on odd personality tics or food choices. This student he has seen several times dozing off at the back of the hall or hunched over his laptop.

But that’s not the point in that particular moment.

“You think you can just sleep through your job meetings if you ever manage to graduate? Think those grills at whatever fast food joint you end up at will cook themselves?”

“ _I_ think,” Mahiru shouts, more than says, though he stays sitting, “I come to class to learn, not watch some adult abuse students.”

The lecture hall, which was quiet to begin with, falls into the hush following a sharp intake of breath.

“Excuse me?” the professor says as he turns to Mahiru. The student watches Mahiru with unnaturally pale blue eyes.

“There’s two hundred students in this class,” Mahiru replies instantly, “half of which have fallen asleep at some point during a lecture. Obviously I could see why you might find this annoying, but again, there are _two hundred students_ here who have exams tomorrow and who expect a useful and educational lecture, not to mention a professor who acts like an adult capable of ignoring a minor irritation that’s not disruptive in favor of running a smooth class.”

Everyone still stares at him, so Mahiru takes a deep breath before quickly adding, “you’re being a prick to someone who is clearly exhausted and sick, and literally no one here gives a shit about your power trip.”

“Did that–did that fucking _rhyme_?” he hears a student whisper, and Mahiru’s certain that someone has probably started filming this. Judging by the way the professor goes redfaced and snaps at him to see him after lecture rather than completely losing it, the professor suspects so too.

So after class, Mahiru stalks to the bottom of the lecture hall to where the professor is waiting. The other student trudges behind him with his hands stuffed in the pockets of his sweater. The pale blue matches the colour of his eyes almost perfectly, which is the least unsettling thing about the student so far.

“I have half a mind to send you to the dean, you are so out of line,” the professor says as soon as Mahiru reaches him, and Mahiru loses any shred of patience he still possessed.

“First of all, you grabbed a student’s head,” Mahiru starts. Said student doesn’t seem very bothered by the whole thing but Mahiru doesn’t even glance at him. “All you had to do was ignore him. Or, if you’re really this upset about one in two hundred students sleeping, you could have tapped his desk or spoken until he woke up, and then continued on with the lecture.”

“Lectures are for learning, not for sleeping. I have every right–”

“You don’t have the right to belittle a student in front of everyone just for dozing off in class. He clearly looks–”

“ _You_ do not get to continuously interrupt your betters, Mr. Mahiru Shirota. I know your other professors put up with it for God knows what reason–”

“Because I argue respectfully with them since they actually have my re–”

“Man, whatever.”

Only the fact that the student had yet to utter a single syllable gets both Mahiru and the professor to stop their near yelling.

“I don’t care,” the student says, and even his voice sounds rough with sleep. Yet that roughness doesn’t go away the longer the student speaks, as if even his vocal chords are perpetually exhausted. “Just give us our punishment–dock our grades or whatever. I can’t deal with all this yelling.”

“He can’t,” Mahiru cuts in before the professor can. “That’s why he’s so mad. He can’t take away any percent just for falling asleep in class or for me arguing like this. Not unless he wants the dean’s attention.”

There’s something close to actual hatred in the professor’s eyes. Mahiru almost feels bad for his tongue, sharpened by exhaustion and a natural dislike of any form of bullying. But he’s only in his second year of university, which means he can still piss off a professor and get away with it, and he can figure out a way to reach out a gentler hand later. Like after he’s out of this hall with food in his hand, or after his gruelling midterms.

“I _could_ put in a word with the faculty or academic counselling,” the professor says, “if I didn’t want to subject them to this. I will if you don’t leave right now and think before you run your mouth next time.”

Mahiru bites said tongue and nods before following the other student out the door.

Once they are outside the room, the mystery student doesn’t immediately slink off and neither does Mahiru. They regard each other curiously. At least, Mahiru thinks the other one is curious. He could just be spacing off while staring at Mahiru.

“Are you always that much of a shit disturber?” the student asks a second later, neatly destroying Mahiru’s idea and making him flush.

“A simple thank you would have been nice,” Mahiru replies, and the student cocks his head a little. “And I wasn’t trying to be a shit disturber, as you said.”

“You weren’t?”

“No! I was just trying to get him to lay off _you_ and keep teaching.”

“Your rescue seems messier than the initial problem.”

Mahiru groans and rubs his tired face a little.

“Why didn’t you say anything?” Mahiru asks instead of trying to argue any further, and the student offers him a half-shrug.

“Why bother? He was gonna shut up eventually. And arguments are exhausting. I can’t deal with them.”

“Yeah, but he was saying horrible things.”

Something in the student’s expression flickers and suddenly his apathy seems a practiced perfection.

“They’re just words,” the student says, and Mahiru’s frown deepens.

“It’s more than that.”

“God, are you always this exhausting?” the student leans against the wall and slides down it like he doesn’t plan on leaving that spot for another two hours. “Just go take a nap or something.”

Mahiru should walk away, and this is when things start getting a lot less simple. This is when Sakuya will start to question Mahiru’s easy reasoning, or tease him with a remark like, “simply speaking, you found him hot, didn’t you?”

Which he will vehemently deny. Not because the student is unattractive, but because in that specific moment all Mahiru can pay attention to is the signs of exhaustion pressing on the other student’s hunched frame.

There is a student.

There is a professor.

There is Mahiru.

And there is a protective instinct and a rare, pure desire to reach out a warm hand to everyone that has grown alongside and inside Mahiru’s bones from the moment he drew his first breath. 

“What’s your name, anyways?” Mahiru asks, and the student cracks open an eye.

“Kuro,” he replies, and then opens his second eye. “Yours?”

“Mahiru.”

“Great.” Kuro climbs to his feet quicker than Mahiru would have expected from his previously sluggish actions. “Now I know another overachiever to avoid.”

Mahiru decides getting himself some hot food is easier and far simpler than chasing after Kuro.

***

Technically, Licht and Hyde have two first meetings. This is because one of them refuses to acknowledge the first time as an actual meeting, and they love to argue about the fact, _and_ because the both of them are extra enough to deserve two first meetings.

The first one, predictably, happens in class. It involves Hyde crashing into the seat beside Licht with enough unnecessary noise and flash equivalent to a firecracker, making Licht’s head snap up from his notes. There is a whirlwind of far too many dark scarfs before Licht can focus on the square glasses, slightly frenzied eyes, and brightly dyed hair at the epicenter.

From one second to the next, Hyde withdraws two cans of Red Bull from a thoroughly stained and battered messenger bag. Licht watches as the student pours both cans’ contents into a large coffee. Only as Hyde lifts the unholy concoction to his lips does he make eye contact with Licht.

“I am going to die,” Hyde says cheerfully, and then drains half of the cup in one go.

The second one is not nearly as predictable, though it still happens on campus. The second time involves a hedgehog, which is not a sentence Licht regularly imagined writing or thinking. But there he is, on his way to his night class, when he spots a hedgehog in the middle of a campus sidewalk. He nearly steps on the thing, and only the fact that he is staring down at his phone and therefore the ground, and the thing’s pathetic squeak stops him from ending its small life.

Licht crouches down in front of it, all thoughts about rushing to make his class on time left somewhere three feet behind him.

“Hey, little guy,” he says, and watches the hedgehog snuffle at his outstretched hand.

The bubble of serenity is broken by a loud screech of,

“Lawless!”

A boy knocks into Licht’s shoulder and nearly sends him flying backwards in the boy’s hurry to snatch the hedgehog up into his hands.

Licht rubs his shoulder as he straightens and the boy continues to spin around with glee. The hedgehog looks vaguely concerned, and Licht takes half a step back to avoid the scarfs spinning out around the other student.

All of the student’s motion comes to a sudden stop as his sharp gaze lands on Licht.

“You’re in my class,” the student says at the same time Licht remembers where he’s seen him before. “That famous pianist from Norway or wherever.”

“Austria,” Licht corrects him, but the student just waves his head at Licht’s glare.

“Right, right.” The student rocks back on his heels and shoves his hands in his pockets. “Licht Jekylland Todoroki, right? So even pianists love cute, fluffy animals.”

“The animals, not their owners,” Licht replies. “Hyde, right? You’re always quoting Shakespeare in class.”

“We have a Shakespeare class together.”

“In _other_ classes.”

“We hate that which we often fear.”

Licht snorts.

“I’m an angel,” Licht tells him, the white wings on his backpack gleaming in the streetlights of their campus. “I’m not afraid of anything.”

The world goes still around Hyde as he blinks, and then a vicious grin slowly spreads across his face.

“Ho?” He takes a step closer to Licht, who stays in place. “I have half a mind to make you prove that.”

“I don’t associate with people who are dumb enough to let helpless animals wander around campus,” Licht tells him, and begins walking away. He calls back over his shoulder, “Or who try to get themselves killed through caffeine overdose.”

Three seconds pass in silence, and then Hyde hurries up beside him on the cracked sidewalk. There are a few other students around rushing to their night classes, but everyone gives the two a wide berth. Licht doesn’t miss the wide-eyed glances that latch onto Hyde and then just as quickly slide away.

“Lawless is clever,” Hyde tells him. “He got out on his own.”

“You were outwitted by a _hedgehog_.”

“Are you _insulting_ my _beloved_ pet?”

They argue their way to class, and then argue their way into their seats beside each other. Hyde wears the biggest shit-eating grin Licht has ever seen the entire time, and Licht feels like he’s glaring into a mirror for all the good it does.

Licht decides after an hour that Hyde wears way too many scarves for one person.

Hyde decides after twenty minutes that Licht will be his new best friend for however long his erratic fancy lasts him.

The professor decides after five minutes that having the two of them sit beside each other is simultaneously the best and worst thing that has happened to the class all year. 


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dull acceptance twists in his chest when he sees his and Kuro’s names beside each other, with nothing but white space after and before.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You were all so nice, I decided to keep writing, though I can't promise it will be fast writing.

A week after his psychology midterm, Mahiru arrives to said night class significantly less tired and a fraction less defiant. Sakuya walks with him, dramatically protesting when Mahiru asks if he’s skipping again and claims that the class is cancelled due to their professor’s severe medical condition.

“–and then the worms came out of his eyes! Worms from his _eyes,_ Mahiru!”

“Mm,” Mahiru hums without looking over as they enter the lecture hall. Stairs descend in front of them to the various rows of seats that are already half-full of students who look like they would rather be at home watching Netflix.

“–even listening to me, Mahiru?”

“What?” Mahiru asks, tuning back into his friend’s words as they take their first step down. He glances over to see Sakuya torn between glaring and pouting.

“Did you hear a word I said?” Sakuya asks, and Mahiru pauses to tug at the strap of his messenger bag with one hand. His other holds a blissfully warm coffee.

“Um–”

“Why do I even bother sharing my stories with you?” Sakuya asks, crossing his arms over the chest of his striped sweater. “You never listen to a word I say. I might as well just stop talking to you all together if that’s how much you care.”

“No, Sakuya, that’s not–” Mahiru scrambles for words at the slump to Sakuya’s shoulders and twisting mouth. “I’m sorry, I just wasn’t–”

Sakuya’s laughter cuts Mahiru off and more than a few students glance over at them.

“I’m _kidding_ , Mahiru,” he assures him, and claps a hand on Mahiru’s shoulder. “God, you’re way too gullible.”

“You’re the worst,” Mahiru replies once he finds his voice again, and slaps Sakuya’s hand away. He begins heading down the stairs again to his preferred middle row while Sakuya trails behind.

“Aw, come on, Mahiru. I stopped when I saw your panicked-serious face.” Sakuya bumps his shoulder into Mahiru’s. “I swear it could make _puppies_ cry.”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about,” Mahiru says.

Every row they pass, at least one student looks up at Mahiru and then starts whispering to the person beside them. Sakuya had been quick to show Mahiru the Youtube video that went up of him arguing with the professor from last week, but Mahiru refuses to shy away from the attention.

“I’m talking about your irresistible, too pure, cinnamon roll vibe, of course,” Sakuya tells him. They reach the row Mahiru usually sits in and Mahiru spots the pale head and slumped body within seconds. “I know how much of a capable smartass you can be, and even I get the irrational urge to go all guardian angel on you sometimes. It’s just a natural part of your charm.”

“You’ve been stuck on the Internet again, haven’t you?” Mahiru just says in response. He hesitates only a second before striding toward Kuro with Sakuya at his back.

“Yes, but that’s not the point. The _point_ is–oh holy shit, is this him?”

Sakuya’s voice drops into a whisper once they reach Kuro, and Mahiru shoots an exasperated look over his shoulder. Undisguised glee glimmers in Sakuya’s eyes and Mahiru almost turns right back around to head to another seat.

_Almost_.

“Kuro,” Mahiru says instead to the student who has yet to lift his head from his desk. He’s the wearing the same ridiculous blue sweater from last time, and standing up close Mahiru catches a glimpse of the frayed tailcoat ends that resemble tails.

Mahiru closes his eyes for a brief second to silently wonder when this became his life as Sakuya practically cackles behind him.

“Kuro,” Mahiru repeats, this time a little louder.

The students in the row behind them start whispering even more.

Sakuya continues to laugh.

Mahiru catches a glimpse of their professor glaring at them.

“Five more minutes,” Kuro’s muffled voice says.

“I’m not your mother,” Mahiru snaps, and there’s a miniscule tightening of Kuro’s body. Pale hair shifts and slides into his eyes as he slowly turns his head to face Mahiru. He only meets Mahiru’s gaze for a second before he squeezes his eyes shut again.

“No,” Kuro says. “I can’t deal with you right now. Ever. I can’t deal with you ever.”

“Are you seriously sleeping again?” Mahiru demands, and crosses his arms over his chest. “After what happened last class?”

“I didn’t sign up to deal with this today,” Kuro just complains to the surface of his desk. “I don’t deserve this.”

“Just get a coffee or something,” Mahiru tells him. “You can even have some of my mine.”

“Why do you _care_?” If Kuro put any energy into the words, they would have come out a wail.

“I argued with a _prof_ for you, and if you just do the exact same thing again, then I can’t reasonably defend you.”

“To be fair, you argue with profs all the time,” Sakuya comments from behind him. He bites his lip to keep the grin from spreading when Mahiru glances over at him. “And you would a hundred percent defend someone even if it wasn’t reasonable.”

“I don’t argue with them all the time.”

“Once a week, at least.”

“I do not!”

“Ok fine, I’ll say once a month, but I can’t give you any less than that without it being a blatant lie.”

“And I don’t argue, I have provocative discussions with them.”

“Stop,” Kuro moans. “Just stop. I can’t deal with whatever this is.”

“Look, you obviously passed the entrance exam if you’re here, right?” Mahiru says, turning his attention back to the dishevelled student sitting in front of him. “So you are smart. And I’m assuming this class is mandatory?”

Kuro opens his eyes to slits at that.

“Maybe.”

“And this prof actually wants us to come to class,” Mahiru continues. “Which means, since you’re here and you’re smart, you should pay attention.”

When Kuro doesn’t immediately respond, Mahiru drops down in the seat beside him and begins taking out his laptop. Both Sakuya and Kuro watch in utter silence until Sakuya laughs.

“Well, there’s no stopping it now,” Sakuya says at the determination oozing from Mahiru’s upright posture and set jaw.

Sakuya shifts slightly to look at Kuro who’s still staring at Mahiru. It’s only because Mahiru turns to say goodbye to Sakuya that he sees the moment the bemused curiosity flickers on Sakuya’s face. Something akin to recognition flares in Sakuya’s eyes and then everything in his expression goes blank for a terrifyingly irrevocable second.

Then Sakuya turns back to Mahiru with a grin and waves goodbye as he saunters from the lecture room. Mahiru watches him go with a hesitant question on his lips, but the professor calls for the class to start once Sakuya reaches the door.

“Come on, get your notes out,” Mahiru tells Kuro, the other student’s cheek still glued to the surface of his desk.

“They don’t care, you know.”

“Who?”

“The professors.” Despite his slumped position and lazy voice, Kuro’s pale eyes hold all of the glittering intelligence that let him pass the entrance exam. “They don’t care if you show up, they don’t care if you have questions–as long as you do the exams and the final papers or whatever, you’re good.”

“How are you going to learn the material if you don’t come to class?”

“You don’t need to know the material, you just need to pass.”

“But what’s the point of _just_ passing?” Mahiru asks with a frown. “You paid to be here, you passed a test to be here, and one day this will get you your job. If you did all that, shouldn’t it simply follow that you _want_ to try?”

Kuro stares at him for a solid five seconds as their professor starts talking.

“Oh god,” Kuro says, horror dripping from his voice. “You’re an idealist.”

Mahiru doesn’t respond, but instead opens up his laptop to his lecture notes. He stares pointedly at Kuro, and even pokes him in the shoulder, until the other student at least pushes himself into a slouched sitting position. He doesn’t pull out any materials necessary for taking notes, and he doesn’t even have a bag resting at his feet. All he has are his baggy clothes and bruised hands.

Anytime Kuro starts to drift off or put his head down, Mahiru leans over to poke his shoulder without looking away from the professor. Eventually Kuro starts reading Mahiru’s notes while Mahiru types, though he utters no comments.

With five minutes left in the lecture, the professor reaches a slide that only has the word _surprise_ written on it. He takes a sip of his water as the students stare and unease ripples through the stuffy room.

“I’ve decided to change the parameters of your final presentation,” the professor says, and he looks directly at Mahiru and Kuro with a smug smile. “You will now be doing it in groups I’ve chosen. You’ll find the lists on the course website.”

Voices explode into being as the students all scramble to check the list. Mahiru waits until their professor stops staring at him before opening the list. Dull acceptance twists in his chest when he sees his and Kuro’s names beside each other, with nothing but white space after and before.

Kuro doesn’t even say anything, just lets his head thud to the surface of his deck.

“Right,” Mahiru says after a moment in which the babbling of all his classmates fade until all that exists are the black lines of Kuro’s name on the screen. “Okay. What’s your schedule? We can figure out times we’re both free to work on this.”

“I don’t deserve this,” Kuro just mutters. “I’m just a poor, antisocial university student who wants to sleep for an eternity.”

“Look, Kuro, it’s not that bad. We simply–”

“I _simply_ want to eat ramen and play video games all day. But I’m pretty sure that’s not what you want.”

“Just send me your schedule,” Mahiru tells him through gritted teeth, and pulls up his Line. “Here, give me your Line and you can send it and we’ll figure out meeting times.”

“I don’t have Line.”

Mahiru stares at him, but when Kuro lifts his head enough to meet his gaze, Mahiru can find no lie in his eyes.

“Facebook?”

Kuro shakes his head.

“Email?”

“I think I have the school one.”

“You _think_?”

“Social media’s a pain,” Kuro says, and some of the honesty disappears behind carefully constructed complaints. “People are always overreacting or oversharing or demanding replies in minutes–it’s too much.”

“Give me your phone number and school email then. We need some way of staying in contact.”

“This project is due in two months.”

“I like getting an early start,” Mahiru tells him as he begins to pack up his stuff. “Things always crop up and there’s a million other things to do. Might as well start now while we have the time.”

“You are the worst kind of person,” Kuro informs him from his slumped position, and Mahiru just rolls his eyes. He waits until Kuro reluctantly gives him his contact information, though Kuro doesn’t leave his seat even once Mahiru and most of the other students have stood up to go.

“The worst,” Kuro carefully enunciates again, but nothing can dampen Mahiru’s small victory and renewed determination. He just gives Kuro a wave before leaving the lecture hall and walks away with his mind already forming a battle plan for success.

***

Massive headphones block out the sounds of chattering students surrounding Licht in one of the university’s cafeterias. The music is more a soft backtrack but Licht still taps his fingers along the surface of the table in perfect rhythm as his one hand precariously holds chopsticks. He has yet to master the art of slurping his noodles, but he at least figured out how to use the utensils in a week.

A loud clatter pierces even Licht’s music, and he looks up to see Hyde throwing himself into the empty seat across from him with messy hair and wide grin. His glasses slide down his nose as Licht takes in the small pack of French fries in comparison to the towering cup of coffee.

Hyde starts talking, and Licht watches his lips move with one of his patented stony expressions. Two minutes pass before Hyde seems to realize that Licht can’t hear him, and Hyde taps the side of his head.

Licht only takes his headphones off a moment later when Hyde suddenly reaches over as if he intends to physically remove them if he has to.

“What?” Licht demands once his headphones rest on the table.

“Such an ugly attitude for such a pretty angel,” Hyde half-sings, and Licht’s fingers twitch for the headphones. “But I guess you did look really cool with those headphones. Even cooler than normal.”

“What?” Licht says again, though some of his confusion eases his hostility. He recovers only a second later. “Did you come all the way here just to give me a half-assed compliment?”

“Come on, angel, didn’t you enjoy our conversation in class?” Hyde’s grin widens.

“Are you stalking me now?” Licht chooses to ask instead.

“You’re not that hard to spot, you know. But I do know where you live.”

“You _do_ understand the definition of stalking, right?”

Hyde scoffs and waves his hand.

“I humbly do beseech you of your pardon, for too much loving you,” Hyde says, and Licht glares at him and his overabundance of scarves.

“Love doesn’t excuse immoral actions,” Licht tells him.

“Love is blind, and lovers cannot see, the pretty follies that themselves commit,” Hyde intones with a slight hysterical edge that seeps into his ensuing laugh. When he speaks again though, a touch of seriousness slows the frenzy of syllables. “Don’t worry, Licht, I didn’t follow you or anything. But you live in the same neighbourhood as my ex. I saw one of your concerts so I recognized you.”

Licht considers this information while Hyde takes a big gulp of his drink. The ends of the scarfs dangle inches away from the floor, and Hyde doesn’t take them off despite the stuffy heat that always permeates the cafeteria.

Half of the school is obsessed with their scarves though, and the sharp cut of Hyde’s vest, fashionable glasses, and brightly dyed hair speak of yet another carefully stylish classmate. But Licht dismisses brand names in seconds, and disregards the details that would paint Hyde as just one more whimsical student.

The constant caffeine, strands of hair falling into his too bright eyes, and too wide smile indicate lurking problems being purposefully ignored.

“How’s Lawless?” Licht asks a moment later as he leans back in his chair. “Get him killed yet?”

“So quick to judge!” Hyde leans forward as Licht crosses his arms over his chest. “He’d outsmart you too.”

“He’s a _hedgehog_.”

“He’s a smart hedgehog.”

“Or you’re just an idiot.”

“When’s your next concert?” Hyde asks, and Licht blinks at the sudden swerve in conversation.

“Next week. Why?”

“I want to come, of course.” Hyde is all smiles and careless gestures, but there is a restless energy tightening his muscles and twitching in his fingers. The second he leaves, Licht will accept the Facebook request and Line request Hyde sent after their last Shakespeare class and see what can be learned there. Instagram might be more promising though, judging from Hyde’s general appearance.

“Why?”

“What do you mean, why? Don’t you think you’re good?”

“Of course I’m good,” Licht says with a snort, and Hyde smirks.

“Arrogance is a great hubris you know.”

“I’m not arrogant, I’m confident. But why do you want to come?”

“I like art, of course,” Hyde says, without any shame for what Licht is eighty percent positive is a lie, “and talented people.”

The latter rings more honest than the former in Licht’s ears, and he accepts the words without too much prodding.

“They probably don’t like you,” Licht says, and Hyde covers his chest in mock hurt.

“Why not? They get an audience and I get entertainment for however long they keep me interested.”

“So you’re fickle.”

“The world is fickle,” Hyde shoots back. “Waxing and waning all the time, and anyone who tells you otherwise is selling you something.”

“I’m telling you otherwise,” Licht says. Time ticks toward his next class, but the disbelief twisting Hyde’s face keeps Licht glued to his chair. Notes of hysteria return to his eyes, and his lips border on a sneer the longer Licht talks. “What am I selling you?”

Hyde laughs loud enough to draw the attention of several other students around them despite the din of dozens of conversations all cancelling out each other.

“Naïve dreams?” Hyde suggests. “I don’t know yet.”

“Then why come to my concert?”

Hyde shoots to his feet all at once, nearly knocking over his empty tray. His scarves flutter around him and he snaps the end of one back over his shoulder.

“What, are people not allowed to just like music for music anymore?” Irritation sours Hyde’s voice but Licht just meets his gaze with a steady one of his own. “It’s a nice sound and you’re entertaining. What else is there?”

He steps away from the table, throwing up a well-practiced jaunty smile for his parting. Licht doesn’t try to stop him.  

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The Merchant of Venice – Act 2, Scene 6  
> “Love is blind, and lovers cannot see, The pretty follies that themselves commit”
> 
> Othello – Act 3, Scene 3  
> “I humbly do beseech you of your pardon, For too much loving you”
> 
> How dare Hyde, a fictional character, force me, a graduated English student, to look up Shakespeare quotes. 
> 
> If you squint, you can see some vague plot forming.
> 
> Hope you enjoyed!


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Mahiru leans forward and pokes the top of Kuro’s head until he looks up again. “I looked up your test scores.”

Mahiru drags Kuro to the library two days after their class and the reveal that they will be partners. It took five text messages before Kuro finally responded to him, and then it took another ten messages before he stopped just sending sad cat emojis and actually sent Mahiru his schedule. They have a surprisingly similar schedule with multiple breaks together, a fact that Kuro is far less enthused about than Mahiru.

Kuro messages when Mahiru has just reached the steps of the library to say he already found a table. Before Mahiru can reply or go in, the sound of Sakuya’s voice stops him.

“Don’t you have class right now?” Mahiru asks as he steps out of the way of the oncoming students and Sakuya jogs up the steps to him.

“Yeah yeah, I’m heading over now. What are you doing?”

“Meeting Kuro.” When some of the cheer fades from Sakuya’s expression, Mahiru gives him a confused look. “I told you, remember? We got assigned the final presentation together.”

“Yeah, I remember. You’re starting pretty early though.”

“It’s me.”

“Mm.” Sakuya runs a hand through his green hair and bites his lip. Mahiru _still_ doesn’t know the why and how of Sakuya’s dyed hair, and his friend always comes up with a different story every time he asks. “Soooo, you like him?”

“What?”

“You knowwww–”

“I know, I was hoping you weren’t seriously asking,” Mahiru says, and rubs his eyes. “I just met him.”

“And this is crazy but–”

“Stop,” Mahiru groans, but quickly offers his own relieved smile when his reaction gets Sakuya to look a little brighter.

“I’m just asking. I keep thinking one day you’ll stop being a saint and become a sinner like the rest of us.”

“Just because I haven’t dated as much as everyone else doesn’t mean I’m a saint.”

“Cinnamon roll, too pure for this–”

“I’m going now,” Mahiru says loudly over Sakuya’s words. He reaches out a hand to grab at the library doors when Sakuya clasps his shoulder.

“Hey, you wouldn’t happen to know Kuro’s last name, would you?”

“No, it wasn’t on our partner list.”

“You didn’t see his Facebook?”

“He doesn’t have Facebook,” Mahiru tells him, and Sakuya frowns. “Or Line.”

When Sakuya just keeps standing there in the freezing January air with a frown on his face, Mahiru asks,

“Why–do you know him?”

“Nah,” Sakuya says, and the carefree smile flashes back on in a second. “He just looks familiar. Why do you think he doesn’t have any accounts?”

Mahiru shrugs.

“He said he doesn’t like them.”

“Maybe he’s running a drug cartel,” Sakuya says, eyes brightening like they always do when he launches into a story. “Or hiding from one. You know my professor of classics last year got arrested for that and–”

“That would have been all over the news,” Mahiru points out, and Sakuya ruffles his hair before dancing away.

“Come on, Mahiru. You’ve gotta realize by now the police only tell the public half the things they do.”

“Go to class, Sakuya,” Mahiru tells him not unkindly, and then heads into the library.

Muffled conversations fill the first floor where students check out their books and use the school’s computers. The conversations get even louder when Mahiru ascends to the second floor, filled mostly with tables for groups of students to work at and a few sparse bookshelves. One wall is covered with windows, but Mahiru doesn’t spot Kuro there. Instead he finds the other student face down at a table crammed into one of the back corners.

“Do you just never sleep or something?” Mahiru asks in greeting as he puts down his bag. The air in this part of the library smells stale, and the dim lights overhead flicker every few minutes.

Kuro slowly lifts his head and rubs at his tired eyes.

“What about you?” Kuro asks, and Mahiru frowns over his laptop. Once again, there are no school supplies on Kuro’s person. Not even a bag rests on the seat beside him, and he’s put his phone in one of his many pockets.

“What about me? You’re the one always napping everywhere.”

“You’re the one who always has coffee with you,” Kuro replies, and lifts his head a little higher. “Maybe that’s why you’re always so high-strung. You know it can have really bad effects on your health.”

“I’m not always high-strung,” Mahiru says, a surprising sting of offense pricking him at Kuro’s words. “I’m just _productive_.”

“It’s like a drug, you know? Addictive, withdrawal, side effects include shakiness, anxiety–”

“I brought snacks,” Mahiru interrupts, withdrawing the food and his notebook from his bag. He slides the pack of Pocky across the table to Kuro, who stares with wide eyes. “You look like you don’t eat enough.”

“I eat,” Kuro says, and tears open the pack of snacks after only another second of hesitation.

“Eating bowl-cup ramen all the time doesn’t count.”

“It’s delicious and simple to make,” Kuro says through a mouthful of food. “And cheap.”

“It’s not nutritious. Maybe you wouldn’t feel so tired all the time if you ate something healthier.”

“Unlikely.”

Mahiru gets them to focus a few minutes later on the project. They argue for a while about what topic to pick and which will be interesting. Kuro knows something about every topic the professor has suggested, rattling off facts too quick for Mahiru to respond before ending every sentence with the declaration that the topic would be too complicated or boring.

“You obviously understand all of them,” Mahiru argues after the eleventh topic Kuro claims will be too complicated.

The Pocky were gone after five minutes and Kuro has returned to his earlier slumped position. Mahiru finished his coffee ten minutes prior and already wants another one in the face of Kuro’s constant lethargy. “None of them will be too hard to do.”

“Can’t deal.”

“You obviously _can_.” Mahiru leans forward and pokes the top of Kuro’s head until he looks up again. “I looked up your test scores.”

Kuro stiffens at that but Mahiru keeps going. “You got one of the highest scores on the entrance exam in that year. You could have gone to any university you wanted with those kinds of scores. You haven’t been kicked out or dropped out yet. So obviously you’re not stupid.”

“Would you leave me alone if you thought I was?”

“No,” Mahiru says, and Kuro stares at him through the strands of pale hair falling into his narrowed eyes. “But it might make you easier to understand.”

Mahiru holds Kuro’s gaze a little longer, but the other student stays quiet. Mahiru turns back to the list with a repressed sigh, and goes over the topics once again. The bright screen makes his eyes hurt, and he blinks when he sees an hour has already passed.

“You choose.”

“What?” Mahiru asks, and looks up again.

“You choose the topic,” Kuro tells him, and Mahiru can’t read the tired lines in Kuro’s face or the acceptance in his voice. “I’ll do whatever you choose.”

For a moment, Mahiru can only stare at the truce hovering in the air between them. The decision doesn’t make Kuro look any happier, and for a single heartbeat, Mahiru wonders just what it would take to make the other student smile.

“Okay,” Mahiru says, and drags his attention back to the relevant, present problem before them. He looks back over the list again, and simply chooses the one that piqued most of his interest when Kuro rambled off some facts.

“Humour and depression.”

***

They have breaks at the same time on four out of the five days they both have class, and Mahiru is determined to make the most of them. After just one year, he knows too well the mad end-of-semester rush that happens in every class, so if he can get a large chunk of a final project done at the start of the semester, he’ll dedicate himself to the task.

Kuro has significantly different ideas. Mahiru doesn’t insist they spend every break together this early on, but he does establish at least one day. Apparently that’s one day too many for Kuro, who claims since they see each other in lecture, that should be enough.

He also refuses to respond to Mahiru’s text messages through words unless Mahiru sends several insistent messages in a row.

Mahiru honestly has no idea where or how Kuro has downloaded so many cat emojis given the student’s declaration that he only uses email, and sometimes texting.

Mahiru’s friends laugh when Mahiru complains, insisting Kuro sounds just as stubborn as Mahiru can be. Mahiru argues there is a significant difference and if so, Kuro is misusing his abilities. Ryusei tells Mahiru he should just focus on his other classes for now. Koyuki insists Mahiru is just drinking too much coffee again. Sakuya is quiet.

Mahiru learns quickly that sharing food or drinks with Kuro will at the very least keep him quiet for a few minutes, and at best, make him ninety percent cooperative. He will happily steal sips of Mahiru’s tea when he brings some to their shared night lecture, tearing at bits of his left-over bagel, and shamelessly eating whatever snacks Mahiru brings to their breaks.

At least he stops sleeping in their shared lecture, though he still doesn’t take out his own laptop or notebook. Instead he simply watches Mahiru take notes for half of the lecture, and rests his head on his desk for the other half.

Three weeks pass in this manner, with the weather outside starting to lose some of its bite as time marches closer to February. The cold winds still send people scurrying from building to building, and rattle on the windows. The noise keeps distracting Mahiru from his readings on a Wednesday night as he forces his eyes to stay open despite the late hour.

The wind is so loud that for a minute, he doesn’t hear the knocking on his apartment door.

Another few seconds pass before his tired brain understands what the noise signifies. He cranes his head from where he sits at the dining room table in the open-room concept apartment. When the knock comes again, Mahiru slowly climbs to his feet and opens the door.

Standing on the landing with only a single backpack and snow melting in his messy hair is Kuro.

“Kuro?” Mahiru asks after a minute passes in which both of them simply stand there staring at each other. Despite wearing his usual outfit, Kuro looks even more of a mess than Mahiru, who’s currently barefoot wearing PJ pants and a too-baggy, faded band shirt. “What–”

“Nope,” Kuro interrupts, and spins on his heel. “Nope, I changed my mind, I can’t deal with this, goodbye, see you ne–”

“Wha–wait!”

Mahiru lunges as Kuro scurries away and manages to wrap his fingers around his classmate’s slim wrist. His apartment door slams shut behind them and for a few seconds, the only sound in the hallway is their breathing.

“What’s going on?” Mahiru says. He tugs at Kuro, who went still the instant Mahiru caught him. “It’s nearly midnight and there’s a snowstorm and–”

“Don’t worry about it,” Kuro insists, and finally turns back around. Mahiru doesn’t let go of him. “Just forget all of it. You can go back inside and be your exhausting self and study or whatever, and I’ll just go be my usual lazy self and we’ll both be happier for it.”

“Kuro,” Mahiru presses, because Kuro’s eyes are too wide and his arm shakes beneath Mahiru’s hand. “This obviously isn’t nothing. So just–tell me what’s up.”

Kuro closes his eyes and Mahiru waits while he debates with himself. When he opens his eyes again, he looks as resigned as he had right before their professor first started berating him.

“I need a place to stay,” Kuro says, and then waits. When Mahiru can do nothing but gape at him, he adds, “Not for forever, obviously. Just a couple days and then I’ll get out of your hair.”

“Why?” Mahiru finally asks, because there are so many questions that start with that simple word. Kuro looks away with a tight expression though, so Mahiru clarifies. “Why me?”

Only Kuro’s obvious discomfort stops Mahiru from asking _why not your other friends_. And while Kuro pauses for a moment, Mahiru realizes he could probably answer his unspoken question since Kuro doesn’t have any social media and Mahiru has never seen him speak to any other student.

But there’s always family, and there has to be _someone_ else who Kuro uses his phone for.

“You’re the most responsible person I know,” Kuro says with a shrug. “And you obviously like helping people.”

“What happened to your place?”

Kuro opens his mouth but then just as quickly closes it. He rubs the back of his head with his free hand while Mahiru waits.

“Forgot to pay my bills on time,” Kuro says without meeting Mahiru’s gaze. “That’s all.”

“And they actually turned your stuff off?” Mahiru asks. “Don’t they not do that unless you miss a couple months?”

“They…do?”

“You forgot for _months_?”

Kuro winces, but doesn’t seem too put-off by Mahiru’s glare.

“So–”

“Just–” Mahiru sighs but releases Kuro. “Come in. You’ll freeze out here. Is that backpack all you have?”

“Yes?”

“Well I guess it’s a good thing I haven’t done groceries yet this week,” Mahiru says, and turns to go inside when Kuro’s backpack meows.

“Kuro,” Mahiru starts without turning around, “is there a cat in your bag?”

“Er–” Another muffled meow pierces the air. “No?”

Mahiru whirls back around and Kuro holds up his hands in surrender. “Look I just–”

“You shouldn’t keep him stuffed in there for too long!” Mahiru scolds, and Kuro blinks at him. “Or her. Boy or girl?”

“Boy,” Kuro says, and stares at Mahiru like he’s never seen another human being before. “His name is Sleepy Ash.”

“Huh,” Mahiru replies, and rolls his eyes when Kuro keeps looking the most unsettled since the whole conversation started. “Yeah, you should’ve asked me first about pets, but I’m not gonna make you leave him out in a blizzard. You can both come inside.”

They head inside and Kuro slowly takes out his cat once they stand in the hallway of the apartment. Both Kuro and the cat look around with wide eyes, taking in the L-shaped group of leather couches around the TV and coffee table before moving to the dining room table covered in Mahiru’s homework, and the glistening clean kitchen counters.

“My uncle owns the place,” Mahiru offers in explanation when Kuro doesn’t move. The cat stays quiet too, sleepy eyes peering out from a mass of black fur. Mahiru gives the small thing a smile, and then beams when petting Sleepy Ash triggers the cat’s soft purring. “We’ll have to get cat food.”

“He can eat what I eat,” Kuro says. His hold on the cat tightens a little, and Mahiru looks up in alarm.

“Absolutely not! Don’t you know how bad our food can be for them?”

“He’s been fine,” Kuro replies. Mahiru opens his mouth to snap back, but he stops when he notes the defensive hunch to Kuro’s shoulders.

“Okay well, I have money so–it’s not an issue or anything.”

“I have money too,” Kuro offers, and finally sets the cat down and starts to take off his boots. “I know it’s physically impossible for you, but you don’t have to mother hen us.”

Mahiru snorts and heads into the kitchen instead of replying. He rummages through his pretty sparse fridge, both in case Kuro’s hungry and to give his new guests time to look around. When he turns back though, Kuro’s just lying on the couch with Sleepy Ash sniffing at the coffee table.

“Thanks,” Kuro tells him without opening his eyes.

“Yeah,” Mahiru gets out, momentarily distracted by the relaxed slump to Kuro’s body despite his earlier tension.

Mahiru shakes his head a moment later and returns to his homework. After a few minutes, Kuro gets up and finds the TV remote. He sets the volume low while Mahiru continues to study. Sleepy Ash only spends a minute exploring the apartment before he hops up onto the table and makes a bed in Mahiru’s homework.

Midnight comes and goes by the time Mahiru finally gives up studying. Kuro hasn’t moved from his spot on the couch since arriving, and he doesn’t move while Mahiru gets a blanket and pillow for him.

“Aren’t you gonna sleep soon?” Mahiru asks when he dumps the blanket on him. “You have a morning class.”

“I’m fine.”

Mahiru rolls his eyes.

“This is probably why you’re tired all the time,” Mahiru tells him, and Kuro just keeps watching the TV.

Mahiru sighs and after a moment, moves to his own bedroom. There is no point trying to change another person’s unhealthy habits if they will only be living with him for a few days.

***

Half of the audience cried during Licht’s concert, Kranz tells him after. The university has a very small dressing room attached to the stage in one of their three concert halls, and that’s where Kranz gushes about performance after. As well as scolds Licht for not handing in one of his assignments on time. Licht doesn’t know how Kranz figured that out, but he doesn’t question it. Kranz has the terrifying ability of mothers everywhere to find out things about their children with no logical explanation to their mysterious method.

Kranz only stops when a knock sounds on the dressing room door. He goes over to answer while Licht begins to review the video Kranz recorded of the concert.

“Angel!”

Licht’s head snaps up at the sound of Hyde’s enthusiastic voice. Kranz stares at Hyde with a slightly bemused expression, but he doesn’t try stopping the student from skipping inside to where Licht sits.

“Traitor,” Licht mouths at Kranz, who just shakes his head at him like he’s being a particularly difficult child.

Licht earns that headshake a lot from him.

“You were amazing, angel!” Hyde tells him, coffee in hand despite the late hour. When Licht gives him a sour look he starts to say, “Be not afraid of greatness–”

“So,” Licht interrupts. “Did your fickle heart enjoy the concert?”

“Bravo,” Hyde says in response, and claps his hands for a solid minute. “You had that audience hall in tears, you were so beautiful to witness.”

“But not you?” Licht guesses, and Hyde grins.

“Sorry, you’ll have to try harder than that.”

“Is that so,” Licht says, and leans back in his chair. He crosses his arms as he studies Hyde’s smiling face.

“Sorry, angel mine,” Hyde replies. “I much prefer laughing to crying. Tears are a waste.”

Dark honesty clouds Hyde’s voice despite the smile still on his face and the way he whirls around to eagerly ask Kranz about Licht’s concerts. Licht watches, and then takes the opportunity to take Lawless from Hyde’s backpack when the small hedgehog pokes his head out.

“–always nice to meet one of Licht’s friends,” Kranz is saying when Licht tunes back into the conversation. “And one who’s so supportive of his music.”

“We’re not friends,” Licht protests at the same time Hyde says,

“Who wouldn’t love his musical gift?”

“It’s not a gift,” Licht snaps, and for the first time since Hyde entered the room, he looks startled. Uncertain. “It’s hard-work and persistence.”

Hyde laughs at that, but when Licht just keeps staring at him, he stops abruptly.

“You’re serious?” He shakes his head. “You actually think talent has nothing to do it?”

“Talent means nothing on its own,” Licht replies. “It’s the resolve that’s the most important part.”

Hyde just stares at him for a solid minute before hopping up onto one of the tables near Licht.

“You’re even more interesting than I originally thought,” Hyde tells him, but the words don’t rest like a compliment in Licht’s chest.

They poke and prod, and Licht can see the dismissiveness behind Hyde’s bright red glasses. Yet he crosses his legs and grins at Licht like he’s ready to follow Licht wherever he marches off to.

“What about you?” Licht asks, when Hyde doesn’t say anything else. “What do you want?”

“I already told you,” Hyde says with a flick of his free wrist. “I just want to be entertained.”

“That’s it?”

“Not grand enough for you, angel?” Hyde offers him a smile that speaks of bloodied knuckles and broken teeth. “How about good food, a nice bed, fun nights–just like everyone else.”

“No boyfriends or girlfriends?” Licht asks, because he followed through with his investigation of Hyde’s social media profile, and asking a couple people in his class provided a tsunami of whispered rumours. “Sounds like you’re quite the serial monogamist.”

“Why, you offering?” Hyde shoots back, and Licht snorts. “Ah, but that’s right, you have a problem with the world’s natural fickleness.”

Hyde swings his feet and Kranz looks like he’s ready for them to leave, but he doesn’t say anything.  

“Anyways, does it really matter?” Hyde asks. “You want to play piano and I want to listen.”

“And you want to follow me around because?”

“It’s not every day you run into a real angel,” Hyde replies cheerfully, no hint of mockery anywhere to be found.

“I think that’s a wonderful idea,” Kranz finally breaks into their conversation, and they both look over at him in surprise. “Licht, I’m always telling you to be more social while you’re here. And it sounds like he’s already one of your classmates, and a fan.”

“A man after my own heart,” Hyde says, and Licht knocks his arm away when he tries to wrap it around Licht’s shoulders.

He just bounces away when Licht tries to kick him, and when Kranz ushers them out so he can take Licht for dinner, Hyde ends up crammed into the car seat beside Licht with Lawless resting in Licht’s lap.  

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The most unrealistic thing that will happen in this or any other fic I write: there being an actual snowstorm in Tokyo.
> 
> I hope you enjoyed!


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Right well,” Mahiru hears himself say over the echo of Sleepy Ash’s meows and Kuro’s imitations, “You probably should have told me that before I let him move in with me.”

Surprisingly, Kuro is not a particularly obtrusive roommate. There’s no denying his annoying propensity to make a mess, Mahiru always finding wrappers in the strangest places when he comes back from a lecture. There’s no ignoring the laziness when Mahiru finds him still glued to the same spot in front of the television in the wee hours of the morning.

His habits sit on the other end of the spectrum from Mahiru’s, offering a jaunty wave that makes Mahiru grind his teeth.

But Kuro is not an _obnoxious_ roommate. He stays in his corner by the television, and only moves for basic necessities like food or the bathroom, or finding where Sleepy Ash has gone to nap. If Mahiru asks him to turn down the television volume, he will. He talks to Mahiru, but he doesn’t insult or sneer or needle despite their different points of view.

Kuro is not a _bad_ person either, and it’s Kuro who’s the victim of any bad habits he possesses.

It’s on the third day of their sudden living arrangement that Mahiru does something about these habits beyond making comments that roll right off the stubborn set to Kuro’s hunched shoulders. Mahiru arrives home after one of his night classes to find Kuro once more sitting in front of the television. His own stomach grumbles with hunger when he spots the bowl cup of ramen in Kuro’s calloused hands.

“You’ve got to be _kidding_ me,” Mahiru blurts without thinking. Kuro looks over with noodles still dangling from his mouth, and Mahiru stalks over. “This is the _third_ day I’ve seen you eating more than one of those!”

Kuro slurps the noodles just so he can say,

“So?”

“ _So_ ,” Mahiru says, forcing his voice low at the confusion in Kuro’s own voice. “It’s not healthy! I haven’t seen you eat anything else but candy!”

Kuro tilts his head and replies after a moment of consideration.

“I had some of those strawberries you cut up the other day.”

“A few slices of strawberries doesn’t make up for eating crap the rest of the day,” Mahiru says, almost shrilly. Kuro just shrugs, as unbothered by this as he seems by everything else.

And Mahiru knows anyone else would drop the matter. Knows Sakuya and all his other friends would just roll their eyes, maybe smack Mahiru, and remind him they are university boys. Their metabolism can digest the greasiest, fattiest, _deep-fried_ concoction the human mind can conjure on a regular basis.

But that doesn’t mean they _need_ to.

“Put it down,” Mahiru tells him, and then snatches the bowl when Kuro blinks at him. The other boy squawks in indignation as Mahiru carries the foul smelling thing to the kitchen sink.

“Wh–”

“I’m making us dinner,” Mahiru cuts him off, and nearly whirls around to point a spoon at Kuro just for good measure. He does turn slightly so he can see Kuro has half-gotten to his feet and gapes at Mahiru. “A healthy dinner. With _real_ meat and real vegetables.”

“There’s vegetables in that,” Kuro replies, only a little sullen. “And meat.”

“There’s bits of corn, that’s it.”

“I saw some orange stuff too. Carrots?”

“There’s real, raw carrots in the fridge. You can cut them up for us if you want.”

Kuro groans, loud enough to draw Sleepy Ash from his most recent hiding place. When Mahiru turns back around, Kuro has flopped back down onto the couch. He watches Mahiru with curiosity more than resentment though, and he doesn’t move to take back his noodles.

So Mahiru just huffs once, and then turns his mind to the task at hand. Despite his claims, he’s tired and could do with something easy to make. Rice is always easy, and on top of that, he’s got some slices of beef that can just be fried along with vegetables.

_Gyuudon it is_ , he thinks, and pulls out even more vegetables than he normally does.

Five minutes in, Kuro wanders into the kitchen to watch. He perches on the kitchen counter and draws one knee up to his chest. He refuses to get down, and Mahiru gives up after the first couple of scolding comments. Instead, he loses himself in his focus on the food while Kuro’s bright eyes track every small movent of Mahiru’s muscles.

When Mahiru finishes and sets the bowls on the table for them, he is too triumphant to notice the way Kuro stares at the food as if expecting a trick. They sit down and Mahiru offers him a grin before taking a bite of his own food.

Kuro just sits there blinking.

“Well?” Mahiru asks, with a raised eyebrow. Sleepy Ash finds his way up onto the table, Mahiru giving up on getting the cat to stay off any surface after the first day. Only once the cat sniffs at Kuro’s food, does he dig into the food.

“M’not surprised you can cook,” Kuro says through a mouthful of food. He swallows before speaking again at Mahiru’s glare. “You’re like the perfect housewife.”

Given how much Kuro avoids any housework, the words should come across as an insult. Yet there’s an impressed note to Kuro’s tone that not even he can hide.

“I just know how to take care of myself,” Mahiru replies with a shrug. “Once you learn how to do it, it’s simple.”

Kuro rolls his eyes.

“That’s what you say about everything.”

“You just have to be willing to try,” Mahiru tells him, unsure when the conversation started to veer into pep talk territory. “You saw me make it, you can’t tell me it looked that hard.”

“Too much work,” Kuro just says, and shoves more food into his mouth. “Can’t deal.”

It’s Mahiru’s turn to roll his eyes, but the late hour and Kuro’s quiet gratitude after the meal lessens any of his ire.

The next day when Mahiru comes home and insists they have another healthy meal, Kuro doesn’t offer any resistance. He takes up the same spot on the counter as before, but this time he offers comments as Mahiru works. They aren’t really meant to help or offer any guidance, but they aren’t insults, and they never distract Mahiru long enough to burn the food. The low murmur of syllables brings an odd sense of comfort in the same way Sleepy Ash rubbing soft fur against his leg does.

So, no, Kuro isn’t a _bad_ roommate. And the more time Mahiru spends around him in the apartment, the further Kuro creeps out from whatever self-imposed bubble he hides in most of the time. They argue over healthy food, and Kuro reads Mahiru his horoscope and tells Mahiru stories about the video game Kuro hunches over.

Mahiru brings enough snacks for both of them to their shared night class and breaks, and tells him to go to class when the alarm on Kuro’s phone isn’t enough. Kuro starts leaning on Mahiru when he’s taking notes, in and out of class, offering comments instead of just sitting in silence. Sometimes they are completely unrelated, but more and more they add a tidbit Mahiru either missed before or are related to a past study Mahiru forgot about.

Three days becomes five, five becomes seven, and then suddenly two weeks have passed since Kuro arrived. Mahiru asks once after the first week how the payments are coming along while Kuro slouches on the couch.

“I can leave now if you want,” Kuro replies instead of answering the question. Mahiru frowns at him.

“That’s not what I asked.”

“Soon.”

“How are you paying for it?” Mahiru asks because he’s never seen any indication of Kuro possessing a part-time job. Maybe his parents, but if they were paying his tuition, then surely they would help Kuro pay whatever bills he has if he’s in danger of becoming homeless.

“Savings,” Kuro says, somehow managing to get even more hunched in on himself. Mahiru bites back his comments about permanent poor posture. “Trust funds. That stuff. It’s fine.”

Mahiru opens his mouth to press further, but then Kuro starts complaining about being hungry and he’s actually started helping Mahiru prepare ingredients, so they make food instead. Mahiru doesn’t think to bring the matter up again until he’s studying in the library in the middle of the third week and Sakuya comes crashing into the seat beside Mahiru.

“You by yourself?” Sakuya asks immediately, and Mahiru’s head snaps up at the lack of Sakuya’s usual strange stories that replace standard greetings.

“Why wouldn’t I be?” Mahiru asks. “You know Ryusei and Koyuki have class right now.”

“Yeah but you’ve been hanging around that Kuro guy a lot,” Sakuya says, tugging at the ends of his green hair for a second. “He’s like your new pet.”

“That’s–”

“Which is actually what I’m here to talk about,” Sakuya interrupts, and leans into Mahiru’s confused bubble of space.

“Kuro?”

“And how he looks like a cinnamon roll but could actually murder you!”

“That still makes no sense,” Mahiru tells him, though his shoulders ease a little at Sakuya’s usual use of memes. Yet he can’t see any laughter in Sakuya’s normally cheerful face, and Sakuya glances around them before speaking again.

“Seriously, Mahiru, I’ve heard some bad shit.”

“About Kuro?” Mahiru says, unable to keep the bewilderment from his voice.

“I asked around,” Sakuya whispers even though everyone else in the library buries their faces in their books and laptops. “There’s some nasty rumours about stuff he’s done. Bad stuff. Illegal stuff.”

“About Kuro,” Mahiru just repeats, those words the only thing bouncing around his head in the face of Sakuya’s declaration.

“ _Yes_ , about Kuro! Your weird, hermit, too-cool-for-school, classmate!”

“What kind of bad stuff?” Mahiru finally asks, picking out coherent thoughts amongst the screaming in his grey matter.

“Fights. Smuggling. More fights. People don’t talk to him just cuz he’s not social or whatever. He’s _dangerous,_ Mahiru.”

Mahiru stares at his impatient expression, but all he can see is the mournful look Kuro gave the coffee maker and then his hand that morning when the machine broke and he spilled hot water on himself.

“Right well,” Mahiru hears himself say over the echo of Sleepy Ash’s meows and Kuro’s imitations, “You probably should have told me that before I let him move in with me.”

“You _what_?” Sakuya shrieks, and half the library looks up at them.

“He needed a place to stay,” Mahiru says, finally putting his pencil down to engage fully with the conversation.

“So of course you had to give him one,” Sakuya says, but pained understanding rather than accusation strains his voice.

“What else was I gonna do? Throw him out in the blizzard?”

“Yes,” Sakuya says, and Mahiru’s jaw drops. “He’s like a cockroach, he’d survive.”

“Sakuya!”

“There’s a million internet cafes and twenty-four shops and so many other places he could have stayed!”

“But he came to _me_ ,” Mahiru argues.

“And you should have kicked him out,” Sakuya snaps. “He had no right to drag you into his mess.”

“He didn’t drag me into anything, I offered!” Mahiru takes a deep breath when Sakuya presses his lips into a grim line. Students stare at them without any shame, and Mahiru forces himself to lower his voice. “He wasn’t even going ask, he was going to leave, and I’m the one who told him to stay.”

“You don’t even know the guy, Mahiru.”

“Neither do you,” Mahiru points out, and presses forward when Sakuya opens his mouth. “Rumours don’t count as concrete evidence.”

“But they count for something.”

“If I believed all the rumours you’ve told me, I’d believe that our old economics prof was actually Santa Claus,” Mahiru says, but Sakuya doesn’t smile at the reminder of one of his old stories. He doesn’t even pose in mock offense or argue back.

“You don’t know him, Mahiru,” Sakuya repeats instead.

“And you do?”

“Better than you,” Sakuya replies, but the anger has fled his voice. “Seriously, Mahiru, just–do you know anything about him personally? His past? What he does outside class?”

“He doesn’t know that about me,” Mahiru says, instead of affirming Sakuya’s suspicions, or saying anything about the other stuff he does know. “Are you saying I’m some crazy, ex-juvie kid?”

Sakuya doesn’t take the bait, and Mahiru shifts under his sudden desperate scrutiny.

“Why are you so determined to defend him?” Sakuya asks, a plea hidden in his soft voice.

“Why are you so determined to think the worst of him?” Mahiru says, and Sakuya just stares and stares.

Mahiru wants to grab him, hug him, demand more answers, and also make him smile. But an unfamiliar distance grows in Sakuya’s gaze the longer he stares, and when Mahiru finally opens his mouth to offer a truce, Sakuya pushes to his feet.

“I have class,” Sakuya says before Mahiru can speak. “I’ll talk to you later just–remember what I said.”  

***

Two more afternoon lectures and a night lecture don’t erase the memory of Sakuya’s words, but they do push them to the corners of Mahiru’s mind for a later examination. Walking along the campus walkways with his backpack weighing on his tired back, Mahiru loses himself in his before bed to-do list.

Kuro’s waiting for Mahiru when he arrives at the station closest to their apartment.

“Forgot the key at home,” Kuro tells him, and Mahiru rolls his eye at the continued occurrence.

“Sleepy Ash is probably tearing at the curtains again,” Mahiru says as they step outside into the brisk night air. Mahiru pulls his scarf further up to his mouth while Kuro shoves his bare hands into his pockets.

“They scare him,” Kuro says.

On day one Mahiru would have rolled his eyes or argued about the logic of that, but Mahiru can only bite back a grin and his agreement after spending three weeks with Kuro’s cat. The first time Mahiru moved the curtains while Sleepy Ash was watching, the cat gave the most demonic screech Mahiru has ever heard and then hid under Mahiru’s bed. It took Kuro two hours of coaxing and bribery to get the shaking animal to come out.

“Maybe it’s the sunlight,” Mahiru suggests as they take a shortcut through one of the back alleyways. Walls guarding backyards tower over the concrete street, gaps in their gates offering the smallest glimpses of the domestic life beyond. “Maybe he’s a vampire.”

“You read too much manga,” Kuro says, scuffing along a few inches behind Mahiru. “Besides, his animal form would be a bat if he was a vampire. Cats are for witches.”

“Oh, now who reads too much manga?”

“That’s just common sense.”

“How is that common sense, but washing dishes with dish soap instead of laundry detergent isn’t common sense?”

They step into a pool of yellow from someone’s backyard light as Kuro shrugs. He opens his mouth to answer, but someone steps out of one of the gate’s right in front of them before he can. They both jerk to a sudden halt to avoid crashing into the man, and an automatic apology springs to Mahiru’s lips.

“Hey hey,” the man says, and he tilts his head up. Sunglasses hide his eyes despite the late hour, but he meets their gazes directly. “You two look like smart kids. Do you think you could help me out?”

“Sure,” Mahiru replies despite the late hour and strange appearance. He takes a step closer, but stops when Kuro’s fingers curl around his arm. “Do you need directions or something?”

“No no, nothing like that,” the man says, and moves closer. “I just thought Sloth might have an interesting story for me.”

A gleam in the dim light, and then dirt digs into Mahiru’s cheek as Kuro knocks him to the ground. Laugher breaks the quiet night above them, and Kuro’s crouched position keeps Mahiru frozen to the ground.

Mahiru looks up at the man and the knife he holds in his slim hand. Mahiru doesn’t have much experience with knives, but he knows the thick blade and its serrated edge isn’t something he would find lying around someone’s kitchen.

“You’re terrible, Sloth!” the man says through his hysterical notes of laughter. His wide eyes fall on Kuro’s silent form and don’t look away. “Think of the headline that would have made! ‘Innocent university student stabbed on his way home’! The public outcry, the terror, the grief!”

The laughter cuts off without any warning, and Mahiru finds himself pinned by the man’s sudden attention. “But I guess he’s not actually innocent if he’s hanging around you.”

“Kuro,” Mahiru says, because Kuro still hasn’t moved from his crouch, but he got them out of the knife’s way before Mahiru even saw the weapon. “What’s going on?”

“I don’t know,” Kuro says quietly, and then raises his voice to say, “I don’t know you.”

The man stares at them, and then more laughter that grates on every nerve Mahiru possesses spills from the man’s lips.

“Even you!” the man shrieks. “I would expect this from the others but _you_ –you’re the one who knew everything they didn’t, weren’t you? You were the first, the informant, the protector, the decider– _you_ not knowing _me_.”

“I literally have no idea what you’re talking about,” Mahiru tells him when Kuro stays silent. There’s a terrible blankness in Kuro’s expression when Mahiru glances at him, so Mahiru keeps his gaze on the strange man.

“Of course you don’t! But that just makes everything more interesting!” Mahiru starts to reply, but goes still when the man points his knife at Kuro’s chest. “I’m Tsubaki.”

When neither of them give him anything but a confused reaction, the man tilts his head and then says with a grin,

“But maybe Sloth will recognize the name Melancholia.”

“I don’t,” Kuro replies, but his whole body stiffens.

“Of course you don’t! Why would you know about the eighth in Tobe when you were out wandering the big city?”

Tsubaki breaks into laughter again, tilting his head back so the senseless sound spills to the uncaring darkness above. Mahiru stares and then starts when Kuro grips his shoulder without taking his eyes off Tsubaki.

“You need to run, Mahiru,” Kuro says beneath all the background noise. For a second the whole world narrows down to the shining weapon and the light reflected in Kuro’s pale eyes.

“I’m not leaving you here with this maniac,” Mahiru hisses, and Kuro scowls.

“You can’t fight him–”

“I can try!”

“This isn’t some manga where the power of your determination will just suddenly give you the ability to fight!”

“I can distract–”

A hand grips Kuro’s exposed neck at the same time the laughter stops, and Mahiru can do nothing but watch Tsubaki fling Kuro into a wall. Mahiru’s choked off cry of horror mixes with Kuro’s surprised groan of pain as he crumples to the ground.

Tsubaki steps toward Kuro and Mahiru sways to his feet. He’s only taken one step before Tsubaki whirls around with his knife plunging toward Mahiru’s chest.

Tsubaki jerks back as Kuro gets a hand around his wrist.

“Run!” Kuro shouts at Mahiru as Tsubaki whirls back around. Kuro barely avoids the slashing knife, but Tsubaki’s fist connects squarely with his face. Blood drips to the ground as Kuro stumbles back from Tsubaki’s ghoulish grin.

Mahiru can’t move, even when Kuro manages to look at him over Tsubaki’s shoulder and Mahiru sees the fear widening his eyes.

Light suddenly blinds them all, and Tsubaki jumps back as a car comes screeching into the alleyway.

“Get in,” someone shouts from the doors that fling open. Mahiru only needs to see Kuro scrambling into one of the open doors before he’s following suit. The doors aren’t even closed before the car squeals away from Tsubaki and the blood-stained ground.

For a moment, the only sounds are everyone’s heavy breathing and the roar of the engine. Mahiru’s skin sticks to the leather seats beneath him and his eyes squeeze shut against the lights of the city blurring by outside.

“You okay?” he hears himself ask. His voice hasn’t sounded this shaky and high since his mother died.

“M’fine,” Kuro says. “You’re the one he nearly stabbed.”

“He slammed you against the wall!” Mahiru’s eyes fly open at the memory, and he twists in his seat to get a good look at Kuro. Blood streaks his face, but he swats away Mahiru’s hand when he reaches out.

“It’s just a cut,” Kuro insists, and then grabs Mahiru’s hands when he tries touching again. He holds their hands in the air between them, and turns so he meets Mahiru’s gaze directly. “Swear, I’m fine.”

“I don’t mean to interrupt,” a light voice says from the driver’s seat. “But we can get medical help if we need it.”

“I said I’m fine, Lily,” Kuro says, and the driver laughs softly.

“Of course. And you, Mahiru?”

“I–no, that’s okay, I’m not hurt.” Mahiru shakes his head and then leans forward to get a better look at their driver. Kuro releases his hand and curls tighter against the door of the car. “And thank you. I don’t–how did you know to help us?”

The driver looks up at them in the mirror right as they turn onto an even bigger street. With the light from other cars and neon signs filling the car, Mahiru can see the earrings glittering amidst the strands of blond hair falling down to the man’s shoulders. A delicate chain wraps around his neck, but Mahiru can’t see below the man’s shoulders from where he sits.

“You’re quite welcome,” the driver says kindly. “And I figured I’d keep an eye on the man after he approached me a couple days ago.”

“You didn’t tell me that,” Kuro says with a frown.

“Because you weren’t answering your phone,” the driver says, though no admonishment can be heard through the concern in his voice. “Again.” 

“I’m sorry,” Mahiru says, looking back and forth between the two slowly. Kuro looks down. “How do you two know each other?”

“Didn’t Kuro tell you?” the driver asks, and the contained laughter lifts his voice high. “I’m his brother.”

“Foster brother,” Kuro adds when Mahiru twists around to gape at him. He slowly looks away from the floor and sighs at whatever expression Mahiru wears.

“That just gives me more questions,” Mahiru tells him, but bites back his questions about their living arrangements and Kuro’s apparent unwillingness to ask his siblings for help. He does, however, turn to Kuro’s brother and ask,

“Sorry what did you say your name was? And where do you live? Also, nice to meet you.”

“Lily,” he replies, definitely laughing now. “And I live with a mutual friend about forty minutes from the university campus.”

“You go to the same university as us?”

“First year.”

“Lily’s the youngest,” Kuro adds, as if making up for not giving Mahiru the information before. When Mahiru glances at him though, Kuro looks down at the floor again.

“I can take you there if you want,” Lily says. “My place, I mean. You’ll be safe there and we can talk about what happened.”

He directs the question at Mahiru, but Mahiru sees the way his gaze slides to Kuro in the mirror.

“Thanks, but I really just want to go home,” Mahiru tells him. “Not to sound ungrateful or anything. But could I get your Line and we can meet tomorrow? On campus?”

“Works for me,” Lily says, and he takes them to Mahiru’s house following Mahiru’s instructions without any protests.

He gives his contact information easily, and they agree to meet during everyone’s mutual afternoon break the next day. Mahiru thanks him again, and then it’s just Kuro and Mahiru standing silent in the middle of the night.

Neither of them say anything as they make their way up to Mahiru’s apartment. Sleepy Ash runs to Kuro the second they step inside, but it takes several seconds of the cat pawing at Kuro’s leg before he picks up the animal. Kuro doesn’t step away from Mahiru’s side though, and Mahiru glances at the clock.

Midnight.

All at once, exhaustion slams into his shoulders and the adrenaline that previously shielded Mahiru from all bodily sensations disappears. His cheek stings, his head throbs, and his hands shake. His throat aches, and his stomach twists and twists. His thoughts start screeching back into existence, and for half a second, he wonders if they should just call the police.

The stillness suddenly becomes unbearable, and Mahiru heads into the kitchen. His motions are all jerky, but at least when his hands close around the kettle and then the cups, they grip a solid connection to the normal world.

“You’re sure you’re okay?” Mahiru asks once the stove is on and there are scoops of cocoa in two mugs.

“Are you mad?” Kuro says instead of answering. Mahiru turns around slightly to catch a glimpse of where Kuro stands on the edge of the kitchen with Sleepy Ash in his arms.

“Why would I be mad?”

“You were just attacked,” Kuro says, but the end of the statement sounds like a question.

“Do you know who he was?” Mahiru asks.

“No.”

“But he knew you,” Mahiru points out. “He called you that name. Sloth.”

The kettle whistles and Mahiru turns back around. “Why would he call you one of the seven sins?”

Kuro stays quiet while Mahiru busies himself finishing their hot chocolate. His hands still shake, but the steam rising from the warm liquid eases some of the tension twisting his body. His heartbeat starts to slow as Mahiru grabs marshmellows for both of them, and puts twice as many in Kuro’s mug. By the time he turns back around, he thinks he can face whatever this is without losing his mind.

Kuro stares at him when he holds out one of the mugs, but takes it after a second. He follows Mahiru and sits across from him at the table, nudging Sleepy Ash away when he tries to steal one of the marshmellows.

“I have six foster siblings,” Kuro says, and Mahiru nearly spits out the hot chocolate. “We didn’t really have a–normal upbringing.”

Mahiru bites back his first comment about foster families not being that normal of an upbringing in Japan in the first place. Being placed in institutions, yes, and that’s probably what would have happened to Mahiru if his uncle never took him in.

“What do you mean by not normal?”

“We were taught to fight,” Kuro says slowly, and the gleam of Tsubaki’s knife flashes in Mahiru’s mind. “And–other things. All of us, from the time we were taken in. Some of us were really young when that happened.”

“And him calling you Sloth?” Mahiru presses when Kuro goes quiet again.

“We had nicknames. That was mine.”

Every word from Kuro’s lips comes slowly, as if this information has been buried in a locked chest and then left buried and untouched for years. Kuro hunches in obvious apprehension, Mahiru slumps in exhaustion, and so his next question is an unimportant,

“Why Sloth?”

Kuro shrugs.

“I dunno, that’s just the choice that was made for us. The seven sins. Lily’s was Lust.”

More questions swim through Mahiru’s mind, but the current grows sluggish with the late hour, and so they sip the rest of their hot chocolate in silence. Mahiru finishes before Kuro, who spends half the time playing with his marshmellows rather than drinking.

“Don’t forget you have a nine am class tomorrow,” Mahiru tells him after Mahiru gets up to put his cup in the sink.

“You’re–it’s okay if I stay?” Kuro asks, and Mahiru turns at the bewildered note in his voice.

“Where else were you going to go?” Mahiru says, and Kuro looks down at Sleepy Ash. “I don’t know what’s going on or why you didn’t go to your siblings for help but simply put, you still need a place to stay, right?”

Kuro rubs the back of his head and only looks back up to nod. “Okay then, I’ll see you tomorrow.”

Kuro doesn’t reply and Mahiru’s eyes only stay open for a minute after his head hits the pillow.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Mahiru is lucky and actually has more than one burner in his apartment, unlike me and my cooking hell of one too-hot burner. 
> 
> Tobe is a small Japanese town in Ehime prefecture. 
> 
> I debated for awhile if I was going to include Tsubaki and anything paralleling the actual fights in Servamp without making it supernatural. As with most things, my final thought process was basically "screw it" and a commitment to this vague plot alongside all the university shenanigans. Hope you enjoyed it. 
> 
> I'm at gracer222 on Tumblr if you ever want to come say hi!


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Misono Arisuin.” He doesn’t take Mahiru’s hand. “So you’re the one who’s going to help us.”

Mahiru wakes up with a pounding headache and the realization that he and Kuro probably should be sticking together as much as possible after last night. The blaring alarm rises above all coherent thoughts, though, and the danger of last night seems as unreal as a fairy tale in the day’s warm sunlight.

The walk and bus ride to the university campus are quiet, and no strange men jump out of any backyards with knives. The walk through campus and coffee order go just as usual, except for the sudden appearance of Kuro while Mahiru is in line, and his bitten back shriek.

“What are you doing here?” Mahiru asks as the line moves, and his heartbeat returns to normal. The shadows under Kuro’s eyes are darker than usual, but everything else seems the same as always, down to his permanent slouch.

“Standing with you,” Kuro replies, and Mahiru raises an eyebrow.

“I meant why?”

“Why not?”

“I have class now.”

“Is it a big class?”

“Yeah,” Mahiru says, and pulls out his wallet.

“Then I’ll come. I don’t have anything better to do until we meet-up with Lily after.”

Mahiru almost points out that Kuro usually finds a corner in the library to nap in when he has the free time. Usually he doesn’t go out of his way to find Mahiru on a break unless Mahiru asks him to come. But then the lady calls for Mahiru’s order, and he ends up ordering a tea and donut for Kuro on top of his own coffee. They make their way to class together in relative silence, and some of Mahiru’s nervous energy fades whenever he glances over to see Kuro slumped in the lecture seat beside him.

Kuro spends most of the lecture with his head on his desk, playing with Mahiru’s pens. The professor doesn’t notice or care about an extra student with a blatant disregard for the lesson, and nothing out of the ordinary happens.

When the lecture finishes, they head to the central library where they agreed to meet Lily and his friend.

Despite all the unique and downright bizarre fashion sense many university students on campus possess, Lily is still easy to spot in the crowd of student-filled tables.

Part of that stems from his blond hair, as much a beacon of colour as Sakuya’s green one and Kuro’s pale hair. Then there’s the coat with its fluttering tail ends like Kuro’s hoodie, and the creamy cashmere scarf dangling like his earrings. In the light, Mahiru can now see he wears a bright pink shirt that displays a decent amount of his chest, and tight black pants to complete the look.

Suddenly, Lily and Kuro seem a lot more like actual siblings.

Mahiru and Kuro make their way over to the corner table Lily has claimed, and that’s when Mahiru finally spots his friend.

With his natural black hair and dark clothing, he is the subdued control to Lily’s oozing sexual confidence. But the eyes that look Mahiru and Kuro over as they approach also lack the comforting friendliness Mahiru already associates with Lily.

“Hey,” Mahiru greets them, tugging at the strap of his satchel bag a little. Kuro stays quiet beside him as Lily flashes a smile.

“You made it okay?” Lily asks, gesturing at the empty seats for the two to take. “No more attacks?”

“No, just a normal day.” Mahiru turns to the quiet boy and offers a hand. “I’m Mahiru.”

“Misono Arisuin.” He doesn’t take Mahiru’s hand. “So you’re the one who’s going to help us.”

“Uh, well, I don’t actually know what’s going o–”

“We’ll head back to our place,” Misono continues, Lily already standing to go. “Then–”

“Whoa, whoa, hold on,” Mahiru protests, and every part of Misono’s expression goes flat.

“So you won’t help us,” Misono says, and Mahiru’s opinion of him oscillates wildly like a confused pendulum.

“No, that’s not what–”

“You do realize that Lily is just as deadly as this Tsubaki figure?”

“Would you just listen to me for one _second_?” Mahiru all but shouts. Heads twist in their direction and Mahiru counts out ten breaths before he gives the student body yet another opportunity to make a Youtube video of him and Kuro.

“I never said we wouldn’t help,” Mahiru says.

“We?” Kuro parrots, but Mahiru ignores him in favour of eagerly meeting Misono’s uncertain gaze.

“Whoever this guy is, I don’t support anyone who just goes around attacking people. But I’m not about to just go off with you and do whatever you say just cuz you say so. That’s not how friendships work.”

“Friendships?” Misono repeats, and when he looks caught off-guard, he looks even younger than Mahiru. Beside him, Kuro puts his head down on the table with a muffled groan.

“Well, yeah,” Mahiru says, because getting older has done nothing to lessen his endless desire to make new friends. Only school stress and exhaustion occasionally dampens it. “I figured since we’ll be solving this together and all–why not try and be friends?”

“Only you,” Kuro mutters, but the desk muffles his words. Lily, in contrast, gives Mahiru an absolutely delighted smile.

“I think that’s a wonderful attitude,” Lily says, and nudges Misono. “Don’t you, Misono?”

“I don’t–” The cold superiority vanishes when the high spots of colour appear on Misono’s bewildered expression. “I mean, I guess if that’s–if you want to call our alliance that then–I guess.”

“Alliance,” Kuro repeats. “Christ.”

Misono finally glances toward Kuro and consideration pulls his shoulders straight back.

“So your Lily’s oldest brother,” Misono says, but Kuro doesn’t lift his head until Mahiru exclaims,

“Wait, you’re the _oldest_?”

“You didn’t know?” Misono asks, eyes wide with surprise. “Just what _do_ you know?”

“I–”

“I didn’t tell him anything,” Kuro interrupts before Mahiru can get out a flustered defense. He doesn’t glare at Misono, but the way he holds his gaze takes Misono aback. “Not about this. So it’s not his fault.”

“I didn’t ask,” Mahiru offers, and Kuro glances at him. “So it’s not all on you.”

“I probably wouldn’t have told you even if you did ask,” Kuro says, and Mahiru slides a look at Lily, but Kuro’s brother doesn’t appear offended by Kuro’s silence about his existence.

“Well now that we’re in agreement,” Lily says cheerfully, bringing everyone’s attention back to the urgent mystery surrounding last night’s events. “Misono wasn’t completely wrong to suggest going back to our home. It’s very secure and he’s worried about the children.”

“Children?” Mahiru and Kuro chorus while Misono flushes a little. “You have _children_?”

“They’re not mine,” Misono protests, and then continues when Mahiru’s shocked gaze swings to Lily. “Or Lily’s. I mean, Lily is the one who asked us to take care of them but–”

“They’re orphans,” Kuro finishes quietly, and Lily gives him a small smile. Misono nods.

“My father agreed to take them in,” Misono says, “Just like he did with your siblings.”

“Wait, what?” Mahiru breaks in, head dizzy from all the jagged pieces of information that have suddenly emerged from the shadows of Kuro’s unspoken past.

“Misono and I have been friends since high school,” Lily explains when Kuro just sits beside Mahiru in silence. “So when we all needed a place to stay a couple years ago, everyone except for Kuro stayed at Misono’s. He helped us a bit with our school fees, too.”

“That’s why he thinks we’re all plebs,” Kuro says while Mahiru gapes.

“Tsubaki attacked the children,” Misono says, and the reminder of the strange man sucks all of the half-formed jokes and incredulity from the air. “On their way home from school.”

“Are they–”

“They’re fine,” Lily assures him quickly. “Scared, but nothing more than some scrapes and bruises. He wanted me, not them.”

“Still, attacking children.” Mahiru shakes his head. He gives Misono another considering look where he sits with his arms now squeezed across his chest.

“So really,” Mahiru says to him. “You just want us to help you protect these kids.”

“We took them in,” Misono answers right away. He uncrosses his arms and leans closer to Mahiru, as if intensified proximity will make his words more persuasive. “We have status they don’t. So it’s only right we do whatever we can do to protect them.”

He glances toward Lily and for the first time, Mahiru can see the slim chain around his neck leads to a bronze pocket watch. “Besides, the only thing kids should be worrying about is what game to play tomorrow and what’s for dinner. Not if they’re gonna be safe or not while walking home.” 

Mahiru smiles at that, and Misono gives him a hesitant one back when Mahiru agrees with him.

“So just who _is_ he?” Mahiru asks a second later.

Lily looks at Kuro, and despite the implied weeks of distance between them, the siblings seem to hold an entire conversation in the space of a few seconds with just their eyes.

“We don’t know,” Misono answers instead. “But he knew Lily.”

“Called me by my old name,” Lily tells Kuro.

“Your nickname,” Mahiru says with a frown. “Lust. And he called himself Melancholia.”

“There was no Melancholia,” Kuro insists, and Lily nods in agreement.

“There were only ever seven of us. Tsubaki–I’ve never seen him before, or heard of him.”

“But he clearly knew you guys,” Mahiru says. “And he knew about your nicknames.”

“He did,” Lily agrees, but says nothing more. Mahiru looks between the quiet siblings and then to Misono. Misono’s brow furrows in thought, but when he catches Mahiru’s eye, Mahiru sees his own confusion reflected in Misono’s eyes.

“So we don’t know anything about him,” Mahiru summarizes. “Or what he wants. Only that he clearly knows something about you guys.”  

Lily hums and taps his chin.

“Maybe Tsuru–”

“No,” Kuro replies instantly. All at once he sits up from his slump and glares across the table at his brother. “We don’t need them.”

“Maybe the police–” Mahiru begins, and jerks back when Kuro whirls on him.

“No police,” he says stubbornly.

“They could help!”

“No, they couldn’t.”

“Wha–this is exactly the kind of stuff they are supposed to help with!”

“We don’t have anything to give them.”

“We have a description and reports of multiple attacks! They can do something with that. They’ll _want_ to do something with that.”

“Compromise?” Lily suggests. “If he shows up again, we go to them.”

“No,” Kuro says, at the same time Mahiru agrees. He turns to argue with his classmate, but Misono breaks in at that moment.

“Okay, for now let’s write down what we know.”

They know very little except what Tsubaki looks like and what he calls himself. Misono records the dates of each attack, and how they happened. But they have no potential motives beside insanity, and both Lily and Kuro continue to insist they have never seen the man before in their lives.

Now that Mahiru has given his assent to help, Misono loses much of the superior mask he previously adorned, and every time he gets flustered, he acts like the first year he is. Lily never loses his cheer despite how often the conversation goes in circles, while Kuro retreats to his usual slumped position.

“What about your other siblings?” Mahiru asks after an hour of discussion has passed. “Have they mentioned anything?”

“No,” Lily says.

“Well, we should warn them, shouldn’t we? Or see if they can think of anything? Are they in the city?”

He glances between the two and watches the way Lily’s gaze falls on Kuro for a few uneasy seconds.

“Most of them are here,” Lily says slowly. “Two of them go to this university as well. Two of them work in the city. Gluttony is working in Yokohama, but we can message him.”

“In the meantime,” Misono says, and closes the notebook he has been writing information in. “Do you know how to fight?”

“No?”

Misono nods while Kuro stiffens in his seat.

“We’ll teach you then.” Misono glances toward Lily.

“I’m not great compared to my siblings,” Lily says with a smile toward Kuro, “But I can help teach you the basics.”

“Okay, thank you.” Mahiru turns to Kuro and sees again the flash of the light in the dim streetlight, and feels the dirt digging into his cheek from when Kuro pushed him out of the way. “You said you know how to fight too, right, Kuro?”

“Yeah,” Kuro says. “But if Lily said he’d teach you, he’ll teach you. It’s too much work dealing with beginners.”

“Are you free later today?” Misono asks. “You can come over and we’ll teach you.”

“But Misono has a strict curfew,” Lily says cheerfully, while Misono flushes. “So you’ll have to be out by nine.”

“That’s fine,” Mahiru agrees, and starts putting their stuff away. “I don’t want to be traveling the city too late right now anyways. Here, give me your number.”

They exchange numbers, and only after they part ways does Mahiru notice the three text messages Sakuya has sent him that day. Guilt pricks him momentarily, but nothing about Sakuya’s texts scream _I was attacked by a random stranger last night just like you_. Just two wild observations about his classes, and a question about how Mahiru is feeling that day. Nothing about their argument either, but the messages themselves and the attempt at normalcy they offer are enough of a truce for Mahiru.

Mahiru glances once at Kuro where he trails behind him with a distant thoughtfulness. No traces of blood from last night remain, but a dark bruise marks his nose.

Mahiru replies to the messages without any mention of the events of last night and then shoves the phone into his pocket before heading home with Kuro.

***

Lily picks them up from Mahiru’s apartment after dinner. Misono sits in the front seat with them, and they spend the ride over answering Mahiru’s curious questions about their lives. He stays clear of Kuro and Lily’s murky past, even though Kuro appears completely absorbed by his DS where he sits in the back beside Mahiru. He learns Misono knows French, German, and English, and is studying to become a translator. Lily shares Misono’s French classes and chose Film as his major, but doesn’t know what he’ll do after.

He gives Mahiru a carefree shrug and easy smile as he says so. When Mahiru pokes Kuro to ask what he wants to do in the future, he simply replies,

“Dunno.”

No concern clouds either of their voices, as if they would be content to simply live the rest of their lives as drifters.

Mahiru frowns, but goes back to playing twenty questions, and he and Misono bond over their favourite desserts. Lily alternates between agreeing with them and teasing Misono, while Kuro simply presses close to Mahiru without looking away from the game.

He finally puts down his game when they roll into the driveway and Mahiru gapes at the size of Misono’s home. The mansion that waits for them shouldn’t exist outside of movies, yet Lily just laughs when Mahiru asks about the place being an illusion.

They are led through a black and white chequered lobby that makes their voices echo, and greeted by several friendly staff members. Twin girls clamber down the grand staircase to give both Lily and Misono a hug. One of them wraps herself around Misono’s leg while the other clings to Lily’s hand as the two introduce the twins to Kuro and Mahiru.

“We’re going to use the training room with Mahiru and Kuro,” Misono tells all of them, and then goes red when everyone starts crooning about him bringing home friends.

They escape soon after, and Mahiru and Kuro are led down dim hall after dim hall. Pictures of past family members hang on the dark walls, but Misono moves too quickly for Mahiru to ask questions. They pass room after room, but light only seeps from a few of them.

Mahiru sees no sign of Misono’s other family members.

The training room on the second floor is a spacious, circular room that doesn’t look much different than the front foyer. Oval windows along all walls show a fountain and neatly trimmed grass below. There are a couple of leather couches shoved against the deep blue walls, but no other furniture clutters the room.

Misono heads straight to one of the couches to sit down while Lily stops in the middle of linoleum floor. Mahiru does the same, while Kuro goes to crouch against one of the walls. He pulls out his DS again.

“Aren’t you going to help?” Mahiru asks him.

“Lily’s a better teacher.”

Lily gives Mahiru a low bow that has his scarf sweeping across the floor.

“If you’ve never fought before, we’ll just start with some basics,” Lily tells him. “I’m not as good as Kuro, but I can at least teach you that much.”

“Start with his stance,” Misono says from the seat. He relaxes against the backrest but his gaze never leaves Mahiru.

“Of course,” Lily agrees cheerfully, and they begin.

It feels like they practice stances and proper footwork for an hour before Lily asks Mahiru what he knows about actual fighting moves like punching. All Mahiru is able to tell him is the classic “don’t put your thumb inside your fist.” That earns him a small smile from Lily before he has Mahiru actually form a fist.

“Now,” Lily says, “Try punching me.”

Mahiru gives him a questioning look, but complies when Lily just gives an encouraging nod.

He steps out of the way of Mahiru’s punch so fast Mahiru goes stumbling a few feet forward.

“That,” Misono says, “was trying way too hard.”

“You don’t want to use so much force that you lose your balance,” Lily agrees when Mahiru opens his mouth in confusion. “Especially with someone who clearly knows how to fight and can probably dodge. You want to be fast and precise. But for now, it’s a good start. Try again. Just a punch. Remember how to plant your body.”

He tries again, cheeks heating when he once again overbalances. His movements look awkward to him, and his footwork clunky. As the seconds tick by though, a blankness creeps over his mind and Mahiru loses himself in the repeated motion. When Misono finally nods with a small degree of satisfaction, Mahiru no longer nearly falls over whenever he goes to punch Lily.

“Good,” Lily says as sweat trickles down Mahiru’s face. Lily beams and glances at Kuro, but the other student continues to play his game.

“I doubt it will be much help against a knife,” Mahiru says.

“Well of course it won’t right now,” Misono says, though he stops himself from outright calling Mahiru an idiot for thinking so. “You’ve just started learning. We’ll have to practice a bunch.”

“With you too?” Mahiru asks. Genuine curiosity twists his voice, but the words make Misono go tense and flustered.

“Misono has some physical weaknesses,” Lily says gently, and Misono glares but doesn’t correct him. “We still train, but not at the same level.”

“Oh, well, everyone’s different.” Mahiru offers Misono a smile. “You’re probably a lot smarter than me.”

Misono blinks a little and then puffs out, but with gratitude alongside some of his crafted superiority. Mahiru smiles, though the exhaustion of the physical training and the surreal quality of the last two days press on his shoulders. The semester is getting into full-swing once more too, and the thought of squeezing in yet another thing to do makes even Mahiru falter a little.

“Maybe,” Lily says in a soft voice as if noticing all the worries Mahiru keeps quiet, “we can give you a little motivation before we keep going?”

Lily pulls a knife out of nowhere in the time it takes Mahiru to open his mouth. Without any hesitation, he throws the knife at Kuro.

Before Mahiru can cry out a warning, Kuro rolls away from the knife whipping toward him. The DS disappears and Kuro’s fingers wrap around the hilt of the knife still vibrating in the wall. He pulls the blade out and whips it back at Lily with barely a glance at the target.

Lily ducks neatly out of the way and doesn’t try to grab the knife again. Instead he beams at Kuro where he still crouches in a battle position, eyes flicking between Lily and the gaping Mahiru.

“Would you bastards warn us next time?” Misono complains, voice only shaking a little. “We don’t all have your superhuman reflexes.”

Mahiru just keeps gaping at Kuro while Lily hums beside him.

“Now that you’re up,” Lily says to Kuro as he straightens. “Why don’t you let Mahiru try some punches on you? You know you’re better than me.”

“Just cuz everyone babied you,” Kuro mutters, but sighs when Mahiru takes an eager step forward. “Fine, fine. Let’s see what you’ve got so far.”

He doesn’t have much, but he tries. Kuro stuffs his hands in his pocket the whole time, and still manages to dodge Mahiru as easily as Lily. He doesn’t do much beyond shuffling around, but it’s enough to keep Mahiru moving and tire him out after only five minutes.

After another few wild swings, Kuro stops dodging. In the blink of an eye, he grabs one of Mahiru’s flailing wrists and draws Mahiru to a stumbled halt.

“You’re punches are too wide,” Kuro tells him. His keeps a light hold on Mahiru’s wrist, fingers pressing gently to Mahiru’s rapid pulse. “Too reckless.”

“I don’t like fighting,” Mahiru replies honestly. Even standing still, his breathing refuses to even out as he meets Kuro’s steady gaze. “In general, I mean.”

“You’re good at verbal fighting,” Kuro says, and Mahiru sees the barest hint of a smirk on Kuro’s face.

“That’s different. And it’s not fighting, it’s–”

“Discussing?” Kuro suggests, and Mahiru doesn’t pull away despite the obvious skepticism in Kuro’s voice.

“Exactly.” Kuro stares at him for another second and then shakes his head. He ducks his head and lets go of Mahiru’s wrist, but not before a curve of fondness touches his lips.

Lily takes over when Kuro retreats to his game, but he glances up at them over the edge of his screen while Mahiru continues to practice. It’s nine pm when they finally stop, and only because Misono can barely keep his eyes open. Barely a strand of hair on Lily’s head is out of place, and he smiles at all of them while Mahiru wipes at his sweaty face.

They agree on four training sessions a week, squeezing them between classes and studying and all Mahiru’s chores. Kuro groans at the prospect even though he sat with his DS the entire time, and Misono bids them a sleepy farewell when Lily leads them to his car to drive them home.

Mahiru takes advantage of the quiet peace that settles over the car as they drive through the neon-lit streets of Tokyo to ask,

“So did you guys messages your siblings? Did they say anything about Tsubaki?”

“I did,” Lily offers when Kuro doesn’t say word. “Well, except our sister. Kuro should do that.”

“You have a sister too?” Mahiru asks at the same time Kuro says,

“She likes you better.”

“She absolutely doesn’t.”

“You’re the baby, everyone likes you better.”

“First, that’s incorrect. Second, I would really like it better if you messaged her.”

“You’re just scared of her,” Kuro points out, and Lily doesn’t miss a beat.

“Yes. So are you. So is everyone. As they should be.”

“But,” Mahiru looks between the two of them with a frown. “She’s your sister, isn’t she? It’s not like she’d ever hurt one of you.”

Kuro snorts, and Lily replies with a slight smile,

“Ah, to be an only child.”

“Oh, come on. I get that you guys must annoy each other once and awhile, or argue just like friends. But they’re still your family.”

“Foster family,” Kuro says without looking away from the cars passing them out the window.

“The word family is still in there,” Mahiru points out. “And sides, you and Lily clearly care about each other.”

“Lily loves everyone,” Kuro says, and Lily just smiles in response. “Which is why he should message our lovely sister.”

“I messaged everyone so it’s only fair you message her,” Lily replies.

Mahiru stays quiet as Kuro turns his head slightly to argue back. For the first time since Mahiru met the two of them, they venture into the bickering territory that’s stereotypical of siblings. With all the things that have happened in the last forty-eight hours, Mahiru is content to simply listen to the rise and fall of their voices, and sink into some semblance of normalcy.

For the rest of the ride, he lets their words wrap around him and momentarily shield him from his own nagging thoughts. Light continually fills their car before fading away, and Mahiru watches the flicker of emotions on Kuro’s face while he continues to talk to Lily.

By the end of the ride, Lily has convinced Kuro to message their sister, with a few last minute encouragements from Mahiru. Kuro presses close to Mahiru’s side as Lily drives away and they make their way up to Mahiru’s apartment. The halls are quiet, and possess nothing to distract Mahiru from the resurgence of a million thoughts that dig divots in Mahiru’s brain.

Kuro moves toward the couch and TV as soon as they’re inside. Mahiru pauses in the doorway for just a second to take in the safety of his apartment, and the black shape of Sleepy Ash skittering over to greet Kuro.

With the TV and game systems crackling to life, Mahiru shuffles over to his bedroom.

“You should come play,” Kuro calls to him when he’s halfway there, and Mahiru turns to see his face backlit by the blue glow of the TV screen. “It’s a good distraction.”

Years of personal experience weigh down the words and they fit like a confession in the hollow places in Mahiru’s chest. He stops, half-turned toward the bedroom door and half facing Kuro’s hunched form. Sleepy Ash stares at Mahiru from the cushion beside Kuro, and gives Mahiru an encouraging meow.

Mahiru closes his eyes for a brief second and listens to his thoughts buzzing and stinging like a hive of wasps. They will only grow more furious in their intensity when Mahiru’s head hits the pillow with no sounds outside of himself to soothe them. A million worries grounded in reality tug at Mahiru’s skin, and not even the warmest blankets will stop them.

“Alright,” Mahiru replies, and steps over to Kuro with open eyes. “But only until midnight.”

Mahiru falls asleep on Kuro’s shoulder at two am.  

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Technically Lily isn't that much younger than the other Servamps in this universe, but he still acts like a guardian toward Misono and the other Servamps definitely still babied him when they were kids because reasons. Also, don't imagine them all as little children who follow each other around like baby ducklings before things start getting complicated. Just don't do it. 
> 
> Also the amount of panels in the manga where Kuro is just. Draping himself. All over Mahiru. For no reason. Just because that’s how they roll. The number of those panels is now beyond count and I am dead.


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Sometimes I don’t think you’re real,” Kuro says slowly, and honesty glitters in his wide eyes.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings for mentions of past child abuse (consistent with canon) and anxiety attacks this chapter

The possibility of a madman on the loose with a vendetta against his roommate doesn’t stop the more mundane parts of Mahiru’s life from carrying on as usual. He incorporates his fighting sessions with Lily and Misono among all of his schoolwork, chores, and activities meant for every other university student.

Mahiru spends the weekend alternating between training, catching up on his homework, and convincing Kuro to be productive. All of these are met with limited success, though Kuro claims on Sunday night the weekend was productive because Mahiru sat down and watched all of the _Star Wars_ movies with him. Mahiru points out Kuro did more napping on Mahiru’s shoulder than he did watching the movies, and Kuro claims that’s the only way to get Mahiru to sit still and relax.

Sleepy Ash’s cries for dinner once again interrupt their conversation.

On Monday, Sleepy Ash spills an entire pot of spaghetti sauce on the floor while Mahiru and Kuro make dinner. The liquid sloshes onto Sleepy Ash too, and he runs all around the house in his surprise. Mahiru and Kuro spend two hours attempting to clean both the house and the cat.

Mahiru spends an additional half hour laughing until his sides hurt when Sleepy Ash manages to get water and sauce all over Kuro’s face, and then Kuro starts laughing when Mahiru crashes to his ass from the force of his laughter and the puddles of water.

On Tuesday, he studies for a test in the library with Kuro, Misono, and Lily before they practice fighting. Mahiru introduces Misono to the best bubble tea place near campus on a mini break, and Kuro buys and then shows them all what his favourite convenience snacks are. Misono argues that the word favourite should only be applied to three things at most, not the fifteen things Kuro has bought. He stops arguing when Kuro gives him some chocolate, and Lily chuckles at how little Kuro’s eating habits have changed.

On Wednesday, Mahiru meets with Ryusei and Koyuki for lunch. They ask him when they get to meet Mahiru’s new boyfriend, half-teasing, half-happy. Ryusei shows Mahiru more Youtube clips that have popped up of Mahiru and Kuro in class now that they always sit together. Mahiru rolls his eyes at all the comments gleefully wondering when the duo will take on the professor again, and insists Kuro remains a simple friend.

His friends let him change the topic ten minutes later, and Mahiru’s night consists of laundry, cleaning, and occasionally letting Kuro drag him away to show him something new in his video game.

On Thursday, Mahiru discovers Kuro likes sitting in a corner at the very top of the library’s west side staircase. The staircase is always cold, made of dirty concrete that rarely sees a cleaner’s mop. The artificial light provides only enough visibility to keep students from tripping, and Mahiru has heard rumours aplenty about couples having sex in the staircase during exam season. When Mahiru says all of this, Kuro just shrugs his shoulder from where he sits. The top door leads to an old archive room that barely anyone ever uses, Kuro simply replies, and is therefore the perfect place not to be disturbed.

Mahiru insists Kuro hold his coffee after they enter the library proper and Mahiru discovers how cold Kuro’s hands have become from sitting on the staircase.

Then it’s another Friday and Mahiru half-persuades, half-drags Kuro the library in between their last class and meeting Lily in the parking lot. They still need to continue to work on their final presentation, and the end of the semester is looming. When they near the end of their session and Kuro is blatantly not paying attention anymore, Mahiru finally gives up and asks Kuro about his siblings and Tsubaki.

“They still haven’t seen anything,” Kuro says without lifting his head up from the surface of the table. “They probably don’t care anyways.”

“They don’t care that someone’s _attacking_ them?” Mahiru asks, careful to keep his voice low.

“Technically, he just attacked me and Lily,” Kuro points out.

“Does it make a difference? He still attacked your family.”

“We know how to take care of ourselves.”

Mahiru bites back any comments about Kuro’s less than stellar eating and sleeping habits. He also swallows any remarks about the obvious joy in Lily’s smile when he teases Kuro, and the way Kuro bought the coffee-flavoured chips Lily loves when Kuro brought snacks for their evening training session.

“But still,” Mahiru says, “You shouldn’t always need to do everything by yourself.”

Kuro sighs, and finally rises his head an inch.

“Hugh and Jeje said they would be cool with meeting if anything else happens,” Kuro tells Mahiru just as he did over the weekend. “Everyone knows to be careful. Isn’t that enough?”

Mahiru’s phone goes off with a text before he can reply. The message comes from Sakuya, who has been lacking his usual memes and sudden appearances this past week.

“Sakuya wants us to meet him by the vending machines at North Campus Building parking lot,” Mahiru says with a frown. “I didn’t even know that place _had_ vending machines.”

“The North Campus Building and the greenhouse create an alley,” Kuro tells him as Mahiru starts packing up. “They shoved a drink one in there.”

“Of course you know that. Come on, I can see him before we have to meet Lily.”

Mahiru packs up all his stuff and then sends Lily an update. Kuro groans and when they both stand, buries his face in Mahiru’s back as if he can hide from any further responsibility. But he follows Mahiru when he starts to walk off. They make their way down the staircase and out into the chilly air. The sun still hovers just above the tallest building on campus, and Mahiru starts to lead the way down one of the several concrete paths that connects all the various buildings.

“Hey,” Mahiru asks as they pass a group of students huddled on a picnic bench, “when did you guys all move into the same foster home anyways?”

Details have been sparse, and Mahiru half-expects Kuro to stay locked in silence. Mahiru’s about to open his mouth to change the topic when Kuro does answer.

“I was seven.”

“That young?”

“Your mom died around the same time, didn’t she?” The question stays soft, and Mahiru glances at Kuro.

“That’s why I’m saying it,” Mahiru tells him just as softly. Kuro blinks, and soft strands of hair fall into his eyes.

“Oh.” Kuro rubs the back of his head and looks away as they make their way down the sloping hill on campus that leads toward the river and north buildings. “Well, yeah. I was seven. The others came later. Lily was–thirteen?”

The wind whips at them as they reach the bottom of the slope.

“Did he–” Kuro hasn’t hunched in on himself yet, but the unprecedented gift of information causes Mahiru to hesitate. “Does he remember his parents? Or was he in the system all that time?”

“He remembers,” Kuro tells him, the wind nearly stealing his words. “Him, Hugh, and me remember.”

They can see the North Campus Building now in the distance, and the streetlights and grove of trees in front of the brown, squatting building.

“You remember yours?” Mahiru asks carefully, and now Kuro starts to hunch. Still, he gives Mahiru a shrug and replies,

“A little. We lived in Setagaya. My mom laughed a lot. My dad really liked dogs. One day I woke up for school and they were gone.”

They make their way up the hill to the North Campus Building, and Mahiru’s lungs burn when he breathes in Kuro’s words. The jagged edges of the words are dulled from time, and Kuro delivers the information like he would the weather forecast. But Mahiru remembers trying to do the same thing when Ryusei and Koyuki would ask him how he was feeling after his mom died. He remembers telling strangers or new acquaintances the single sentence explanation of his mom’s death in a steady voice even when the anniversary of her death is always a wilting day with dulled sounds and faded colours.

“I’m sorry,” Mahiru says.

None of the consolations anyone offered him at Mahiru mom’s funeral made him feel any better. So instead of adding more, he reaches out and grips just the smallest bit of Kuro’s sweater sleeve.

Before Mahiru can let go, Kuro turns slightly, and his gaze holds Mahiru in a way that sends his heart pounding against his ribcage.

“Sometimes I don’t think you’re real,” Kuro says slowly, and honesty glitters in his wide eyes.

Before Mahiru can respond, he hears the sudden call of his name. Both of them turn toward the alley they have now reached, and Mahiru lets his hand fall away from Kuro when the university student shifts. He stays pressed to Mahiru’s side though, when Mahiru moves to Sakuya who waits in front of a vending machine with his hands shoved into his cargo pants.

“Hey,” Mahiru greets him, and Sakuya’s gaze flickers to Kuro before landing on Mahiru. “Midterms going okay? I haven’t seen you all week.”

“Oh, you know,” Sakuya says with a smile that is shades dimmer than his usual one. “Midterms are midterms. But what about you? Have all your self-imposed responsibilities consumed you yet?”

He looks to Kuro at that, and Mahiru hesitates.

“Nah, just getting busy with school.”

Sakuya nods slowly, and then gestures to the machine.

“Want a drink?”

“I–er–actually have a thing I need to go to soon so–”

“More studying?” Sakuya’s gaze doesn’t leave Mahiru’s face at the sharp question.

“Yeah,” Mahiru tells him, with a weak smile. “Another group project.”

“I’ll make this quick, then. You never come down here, right?”

“Yeah–”

“Cool, then there’s something I want to show you.”

Sakuya grabs Mahiru’s wrist before he can ask any further questions. The grip hurts and the gesture sudden, but Mahiru doesn’t resist as Sakuya drags them to the opposite end of the alleyway.

They stumble out onto a small stone ledge above three steps. The steps lead down into a stone courtyard surrounded by class buildings on three sides. The opposite side is an open corridor connecting all of the buildings together. A single maple tree stands sentinel in the middle of the courtyard.

Sakuya releases Mahiru without a word and heads straight to the tree. Mahiru and Kuro follow slowly down the steps and then stop at the bottom. Mahiru’s sneakers send loose pebbles skittering over the cracked surface of the courtyard.

“Cool, right?” Sakuya says while turned toward the tree. “Totally tucked away.”

“Yeah,” Mahiru replies, and takes a step forward. Kuro grabs his shoulder before he can go any further. “We could study here when it gets warmer.”

“I would have liked that,” Sakuya says quietly, and then spins around to throw a knife at Kuro.

Kuro ducks, dragging Mahiru’s head down with him. When they raise their heads again, the knife embeds itself in the vending machine and another one rests in Sakuya’s hand from where he remains by the tree. The tip of the blade points at Kuro’s chest, not a single a tremor in Sakuya’s hand.

“I came out to have a good time and I’m honestly feeling so attacked,” Kuro mutters. Nothing but dull acceptance fills his voice as Mahiru gapes at his best friend.

“What are you doing, Sakuya?” Mahiru asks as if the answer isn’t obvious in the edge of silver in his hand, and the hard set to his mouth.

“You should have just stayed in whatever hole you were hiding in,” Sakuya tells Kuro who merely looks tired at having another weapon pointed at him.

“Sakuya!”

Mahiru’s voice cracks and Sakuya finally turns to look at him. He keeps the weapon trained on Kuro and Mahiru can’t see a single hint of the meme-loving prankster he has come to take for granted.

“I don’t understand what’s happening,” Mahiru chokes out when Sakuya just stands there waiting. He opens his mouth to say more, but all of the questions spinning his mind rush to his lips at once and form a tangled blockage that won’t allow a single syllable to leave his mouth.

“Don’t you think it’s funny you never met my grandparents,” Sakuya says, and the sudden swerve in conversation just leaves Mahiru even more dumbfounded, “even though you’ve been my best friend for four years? Don’t you think it’s weird I never invited you over to my house? That you never even _saw_ my house, or any pictures of me and my grandparents?”

“They’re private people,” Mahiru forces out, repeating the excuses Sakuya gave him over the course of their friendship. “They don’t like photos and they don’t like noise. And I always offered my place.”

Sakuya stares at him for a second, and then bitter laughter crackles through the air. He covers his eyes with one hand as he laughs, but he still doesn’t release the knife.

“Oh god,” Sakuya gasps while Mahiru can only watch everything unfolding out around him. “Oh my god, you’re just–you’re so _gullible,_ Mahiru. You and Koyuki and Ryusei–you’re always claiming I’m so outlandish and you’re the furthest thing from gullible, but you swallowed every lie I ever told you about myself.”

“What _lies_?”

“Everyone can see through crazy stories you know,” Sakuya replies instead. “Everyone can listen to me claim my professor was really Santa Claus and roll their eyes, but no one asks questions about your family life if you tell them something easy like you live with your grandparents.”

“Sakuya, what are you talking about?” Mahiru pleads rather than demands. “Is this–are you trying to prank me again? Are Ryusei and Koyuki in on this?”

“I tried to warn you,” Sakuya says, and all of a sudden he sounds as tired as Mahiru after an all-nighter. “And I’m tired of lying.”

“Well we certainly aren’t interested in anything but the truth.”

Everyone turns at the sound of Misono’s lofty voice, and he steps from the alleyway with Lily at his side. Dark and light, they survey the scene before them with a frown and a slight smile. A beat of silence passes under their careful observation and the shock of those in the courtyard.

“Who the fuck are you supposed to be?” Sakuya asks, blade dipping only slightly. Lily opens his mouth, and Sakuya waves the knife impatiently. “I know who _you_ are. I meant the kid with the bad cowlick.”

“Says the punk with the green mullet,” Misono shoots back with flushed cheeks, and Sakuya blinks at the instant barbed reply. “And I’m Mahiru’s friend.”

Everyone stares at him, but Misono keeps his head held high despite his growing blush.

“Fucking hell,” Sakuya says, and glances at the frozen Mahiru. “You couldn’t just fall in love with one of them, could you? You had to go and adopt the whole family.”

“And what do you know about them?” Misono demands, hands resting carelessly on his hips despite the weapons out in the open. “Are you working with Tsubaki?”

“Misono, don’t be–”

“Yes,” Sakuya replies simply, and Mahiru’s entire world screeches to a fiery stop.

Some of Misono’s superiority fades in the face of Sakuya’s straightforward answer and he glances at Mahiru, but Mahiru can’t do anything but stare at Sakuya. Kuro shifts beside him and Lily asks a question, but Mahiru doesn’t hear any of it. The world narrows to the sound of rushing blood in his ears and the outline of Sakuya framed by a dying tree.

His green hair is the mysterious beacon of colour it’s always been, the green-striped jacket the same jacket Mahiru gifted him on Christmas two years ago. Mahiru still has the wristband Sakuya gave him in exchange that day, left on his dresser this morning right beside his hairbrush and deodorant. When Sakuya does look toward him, his hair falls into his face just like always, and Mahiru has to tilt his head back slightly to look at him like he has since Sakuya’s sudden growth spurt a year ago.

The only difference is the knife dangling from Sakuya’s fingers, and suddenly Mahiru hates everything to do with the object.

“Sakuya,” Mahiru says, and steps toward him. Kuro grabs Mahiru’s arm, but Mahire jerks away because Sakuya is his _best friend_. “Sakuya, please. You’re not making any sense.”

Sakuya watches him step right into his personal bubble and then wrap his hands around Sakuya’s where they hold the hilt of the knife. The blade rests in the little space between them, the point a mere inch from the fabric of Mahiru’s shirt.

“This isn’t you,” Mahiru begs.

“You don’t know me,” Sakuya says, but he stays still under Mahiru’s touch. “I just told you, I’ve been lying to you since the day I met you. My parents didn’t die, they beat me and kicked me out. My grandparents didn’t take me in off the streets, Tsubaki did. I haven’t been working at a convenience store, I’ve been helping Tsubaki track down Kuro and his worthless siblings.”

“You didn’t lie about liking okonomiyaki,” Mahiru argues desperately. “Or liking all those weird pop flavours or wanting to play a rhythm game in every city in Japan someday. You didn’t lie when you helped me with math or bought me groceries when I was sick or when you played soccer with Ryusei, Koyuki, and me. You never _lied_ about being my best friend.”

His voice breaks by the end, and tears start building behind his eyes. Sakuya no longer looks as distant or bitter, but desperation swirls in his wide eyes, and helplessness shakes his hand. The buildings surrounding them block out the sounds of the campus, and the world holds its breath for a single second.

“I’m sorry,” Sakuya whispers.

Hands grab Mahiru’s shoulders and rip him away from Sakuya before either of them can do anything more. Mahiru goes crashing to the ground and watches Kuro grab for the knife above him with an unforgiving snarl. Sakuya jumps back quickly though, and his ensuing swing slices across Kuro’s hand.

Which is of course right when the police show up.

***

The police shove Sakuya into one car and then squeeze the other four into the back of another. Both Sakuya and Kuro are given handcuffs given their obvious involvement in what the cops view as a knife fight, informing them a student passing by saw the knife and called them. The other three are left uncuffed but still put in the car after a weapons search. Mahiru keeps insisting that there’s a misunderstanding, though his frazzled brain can’t supply any concrete excuses in that moment.

“Listen, kid,” the driver tells him after only two minutes. “Just save it for when we get there, alright? We’ll take all your statements and make sure everything’s settled properly.”

“But–” Mahiru starts to protest, but Misono hisses his name. His face has paled since they were forced into the car, and his fingers twist in his lap, but his eyes stay calm. Beside him, Lily serenely watches the buildings flash by outside the window.

Mahiru hasn’t been able to look at Kuro since Mahiru started defending Sakuya.

“You’re sure you don’t want to go to the hospital?” the cop in the passenger side asks Kuro. Mahiru still can’t look, but Kuro’s arm brushes his when he shifts.

“M’fine,” Kuro tells them, just as he did when they first arrived. “Tis just a flesh wound.”

The cop just shakes his head and Misono shoots Kuro a confused look. But Mahiru remembers those words emanating from the TV just the other night when Kuro convinced him to watch the movie before bed, and a small bubble of laughter fights through the clump of stress lodged in his chest.

The relief lasts only a moment though, as the oppressive silence inside the car descends, broken only by the occasional crackle of voices on the cops’ radios.

They arrive at the station with Sakuya’s car with relatively little fuss after that. They park right by the front entrance and Mahiru opens his mouth as soon as his feet are on solid pavement again.

“It’s my fault,” Kuro says, loud enough that Sakuya turns where he’s being escorted by the other cops to the front door. “I just wanted to play a prank but I went too far and he felt threatened. He wasn’t gonna hurt anyone and none of us want to press any charges.”

Finally, Mahiru looks at him and the steady way he meets each of the cops’ gazes. The cops who escorted them manage to look both sympathetic and like they think all of them are some of the dumbest university students they’ve yet to run into. The ones near Sakuya, however, just give Kuro’s statement a cool nod.

“You can tell us all about that once you’re inside,” the cop gripping Sakuya’s elbow says. “And after we’ve looked at that hand of yours.”

“It’s fine.”

“We’ll be the judge of that. And either way it’s going to need a bandage.”

They usher them inside, taking Kuro and Sakuya down a separate hallway while they lead the other three to an empty holding cell. Both Mahiru and Misono hesitate a few steps inside, but Lily heads straight to one of the two hard benches screwed to the wall. The tail ends of his coat move with a flourish, he tucks his scarf in with a careless hand, and then he sits with crossed legs like the room is no different than the library or his bedroom.

The sight causes Misono’s shoulders to relax a fraction, and he takes a seat beside Lily gingerly after a careful look at the battered surface of the bench. Mahiru keeps standing, thoughts frantic with the unknown looming before him in the unfamiliar dimness of a holding cell.

“We can’t let him get arrested,” Mahiru says, and keeps talking when the other two share a glance. “You heard him. He doesn’t actually want to hurt anyone and I’m sure if we just talk to him somewhere safe then it will be fine.”

“He _did_ admit to working with Tsubaki,” Lily points out, not unkindly. “Maybe for understandable reasons, but the fact of his actions remain.”

“He’s your best friend, Mahiru,” Misono cuts in before Mahiru can argue. He shoots Lily a look, but the other student just sighs. “So you would know best if you can convince him.”

“I just need to talk to him,” Mahiru says, and his voice sounds desperate even to his ears. “That’s all. Just talk. We’ve been best friends for four years, there’s no way he wants to be doing this.”

“Well, Kuro did give us a way out,” Misono says into the silence. “Or try to. He gave Sakuya a story he can use that we can back up.”

“And we’ll keep saying we won’t press charges,” Mahiru says.

“He could still get in trouble for having that knife,” Misono replies, and looks to Lily.

“He can get jail time for possession of a weapon,” Lily answers without hesitation. “Or they could just give him a very hefty fine.”

“Either way, we can bet that Sakuya isn’t going to bring up Tsubaki,” Misono says, crossing his arms over his chest. “So we don’t need to either. It should be easier that way.”

“It will be fine,” Lily says, and rests his head against the cement wall as **easily** as if it was a pillow. “They’ll probably make us wait awhile before they call us in. It’s an easy way to scare younger people who’ve never been in trouble before.”

“Even though we’re supposed to be witnesses,” Misono grumbles, which makes Lily both laugh and give a careless shrug.

The other two ease into silence, Misono’s fingers tapping relentlessly on his knee while Lily closes his eyes. Misono looks up when Mahiru starts pacing, but Mahiru can’t even begin to line up his thoughts neatly let alone form words.

He keeps seeing the knife in Sakuya’s hand again, the way his fingers wrapped around the hilt like he’d been holding one for years while other teenagers held their pens. He feels again the bite of stone digging into his skin when Kuro knocked him away, sees the outline of Kuro leaping for the knife and placing a wall of flesh between Mahiru and the weapon.

Just like when they met Tsubaki, Kuro moved before Mahiru could even _feel_ a reaction, as if all that time while Mahiru and his friends were learning how to kick around a soccer ball without thought, Kuro was learning how to stare down an oncoming blade without flinching.

All at once, Mahiru can’t breathe. He collapses onto the empty bench and shoves his head down between his legs like he’s going to vomit. He hears Misono and Lily’s voices like the buzzing of a bee, and squeezes his eyes shut against everything. All of Sakuya’s words, his revelations, and actions rattle inside Mahiru’s brain until he has to grind his teeth to keep them from chattering. His skin is too loose and too tight all at the same time, he’s both drifting and too grounded. The sensation bubbling in his throat could be tears or screams, and he swallows both down even though it makes his stomach burn.

Kuro’s worried voice enters the chaos of the cell, and then everything narrows to the single spot of heat where Kuro’s uninjured hand rests on Mahiru’s knee.

“Mahiru?” Kuro asks, voice small in his uncertainty. That vulnerability makes Mahiru finally open his eyes to a swaying world. But once they’re open, he sees the fresh bandage on the hand dangling by Kuro’s side, and the memory of blood stains his brain like red wine on a white carpet.

“Your hand,” Mahiru croaks, and Kuro glances down with a furrowed brow.

His shoulders get halfway into a shrug before the last tatters of Mahiru’s usual calm blow away like scraps of clothing in a hurricane.

“Stop!” Mahiru nearly shouts, and finally lifts his head just so he can stare at Kuro’s wide eyes. “Stop acting like getting hurt doesn’t affect you!”

Kuro shifts, but doesn’t let go of Mahiru’s knee.

“But it’s not that deep of a cut,” Kuro says, bewilderment dripping from his voice. “Look, it’s already stopped bleeding–”

“You were still _hurt_!”

Kuro gapes and Mahiru still can’t breathe properly with all of the days’ events piling up like iron in his windpipe. He closes his eyes again, and recalls breathing exercises his uncle taught him after his mom first died, breathing exercises he hasn’t needed in years.

The hand leaves his knee, but a moment later, warmth presses against his side when Kuro joins him on the bench. He leans against Mahiru and then lets his head fall onto Mahiru’s shoulder when Mahiru doesn’t push him away.

“It’s just how we were raised,” Kuro says a moment later, his soft hair tickling Mahiru’s cheek. Misono and Lily stay quiet, but their worry is a palpable weight in the air. “Me and Lily. Sakuya too by the sounds of it. So all this is just a scrape.”

“Scrapes still hurt,” Mahiru says, and Kuro huffs.

“Yeah, but no one complains about them.”

“You literally complain about everything else.”

“Okay but–”

“You were just complaining this morning when I made you move your hand an _inch_ so I could grab a piece of paper.”

“That’s–”

“But you always just shrug off being hurt.”

Mahiru opens his eyes again, but simply stares at the opposite wall so he doesn’t dislodge Kuro from his shoulder. He chances a glance at the other two and sees Misono watching with obvious concern. In contrast, there’s a growing smile on Lily’s face as he looks between Kuro and Mahiru.

“Cuz it doesn’t matter,” Kuro says softly.

“It matters to me.”

Kuro goes still at that, and Mahiru closes his eyes again. Neither one of them say anything more, but Kuro stays at Mahiru’s side with his head resting on him.

Lily is the one to break the silence a moment later, softly asking about what Kuro thinks they should tell the police. Mahiru listens to them hash out some brief details that put Kuro at the centre of the mess as a dumb, but harmless prankster, and Sakuya a scared victim. Mahiru and Misono are to simply say they didn’t know anything about the whole mess, only knew Kuro was playing a prank on one of Mahiru’s friends and wanted Mahiru there for the final part. Lily and Misono showed up for the same reason they did in reality; Mahiru told them to come since they were going to study together after.

It takes the siblings less than two minutes to figure out their plan, and after that, everyone retreats into silence again. Mahiru focuses on breathing, and Kuro resting beside him brings to mind memories of the last few nights they’ve spent together, with Kuro either playing his games or getting Mahiru to watch something with him. The echoes of those moments block out the painful ones of that day for a moment, and the warmth of Kuro’s presence melts right through the iron in Mahiru’s lungs.

A cop comes to talk to them five minutes later, and Lily hops off the bench and offers to speak first before anyone can so much as flinch. The cop simply shrugs and leads Lily away. Half an hour passes before he returns, while Mahiru and Misono are both only questioned for about ten minutes. The police seem comfortable with the idea of them as witnesses, though Mahiru sees their frown when he insists no one wants Sakuya to be charged.

After a total of two hours in the police station, they are finally released back into the lobby of the police station by a tired and frazzled looking officer. They’ve agreed to fine Sakuya rather than give him jail time though the officer sounds a little disbelieving even as he tells them this, but none of them add anything but their gratitude at Lily’s silent look.

Kuro stays quiet at Mahiru’s side, pressing so close his sweater continually brushes against Mahiru’s arm. Misono and Lily go to the front when the officer tells them their father is waiting outside and kicked up a great stir when he learned where Misono is.

“–really it’s because the Inspector seems to think this won’t be a problem again,” the officer is saying as they step back into the lobby.

“What inspector?” Mahiru asks suddenly, turning his attention away from his frantic search of the room for Sakuya when Kuro stiffens at the officer’s words.

“The one I asked for,” Lily says quietly, which only makes Kuro tense even more. Mahiru glances between the two siblings, but Lily won’t look at Kuro, and Kuro won’t stop staring at him.

“Yo-hoo, Mr. Kuro,” a bright voice calls, and they all turn to see Sakuya being led down another hallway by a young police officer. When he gets close enough to them though, Mahirura can see the insignia on his chest differs from the officer now filling out some paperwork at the desk. “And you even brought Lily–the one who asked for me, I’m told?”

“I thought you would appreciate the unique situation,” Lily replies, and the man hums. Sakuya stays at his side, refusing to look at anyone else.

“Well, I’ll want to have a quick word with the oldest first, of course,” the Inspector says, “Confirm all your statements and any new information. But then I’m sure you’ll be on your way.”

He turns to Kuro, and Mahiru stares at the outright hostility twisting Kuro’s face. Before the Inspector says anything to Kuro, he glances at Mahiru and a smile breaks over his face.

“Oh, but I don’t think I’ve ever met you before,” the Inspector says. “Inspector Tsurugi. And my men tell me you are Mahiru Shirota?”

“Yes,” Mahiru answers, years of polite talk managing to force a response out of him despite the exhausting bizarreness of the whole situation. “Nice to meet you.”

“Kuro’s friend?” Tsurugi asks with more curiosity than the revelation deserves.

“He has nothing to do with this,” Kuro spits out before Mahiru can respond. Tsurugi raises an eyebrow.

“He’s here, isn’t he? And this boy is apparently his best friend.”

“He doesn’t know anything,” Kuro insists, and Tsurugi just smiles.

“Well then our talk will be short, won’t it? Now come on, time’s wasting and time is money.”

“Go,” Kuro says when Mahiru opens his mouth to protest. “I’ll meet you outside.”

Sakuya drifts toward the desk where the officer explains the fine and Kuro turns to head after Tsurugi. Mahiru grabs his shoulder to stop him, but when Kuro twists back around, Mahiru can’t find any coherent words.

“Mahiru?” Misono calls from the door where he and Lily wait. Tsurugi watches them all.

“Lily can explain–” Kuro begins, voice already heavy with defeat.

“I don’t want you to explain,” Mahiru quickly cuts him off. “I mean I do but I won’t ask you to. Not unless you want to. Just–come out soon.”

His cheeks burn at the plea, and how childish it sounds surrounded by four walls and people meant to keep them safe. People who have already agreed to release them, while someone waits outside with a car to whisk them away to safety. But Mahiru’s fingers tighten on Kuro’s shoulder, and only the reassuring warmth eases some of the chill that settled in his bones while they waited for the police’s verdict.

Without breaking their gaze, Kuro slowly reaches up to grip Mahiru’s hand. He gives Mahiru’s hand a reassuring squeeze before pulling away and out of range of Mahiru’s hold.

“Be out in ten,” Kuro promises, and then he heads away with Tsurugi.

Mind swirling with questions but body sagging from the all the stress of the day, Mahiru follows his companions out into the night. The brisk air makes him straighten though, and he breathes in as deeply as he can. The cold scrapes his lungs and shakes off some of the sludge filling his brain and making it impossible to think.

Lily and Misono move quickly to stand a few feet away by an elderly man Mahiru presumes to be Misono’s father. Yet anger sets deep lines in the man’s face, and a couple of people in the parking lot glance over at harsh tone spilling from the man.

“–promised no more of this nonsense when I took you in,” Mahiru hears even from where he stands. “And here I am, well past supper time, standing outside a police station because you got involved in a knife fight–”

Misono breaks in with a protest and Lily shoots Mahiru a pointed look over his shoulder. Mahiru starts and turns around just in time to see Sakuya starting to slink off.

“Wait.”

He grabs his friend’s wrist, and Sakuya whirls so quickly Mahiru nearly falls over.

“I just attacked you!” Sakuya hisses, but anguish rather than anger carves twisted divots in his face. He clenches his hands, but Mahiru can see them shaking. “I nearly–I need to go.”

“Go where?” Mahiru demands. “To Tsubaki? Is that what you want?”

“I don’t–”

“You’re not someone’s killing machine,” Mahiru says angrily. His confusion, his hurt, and everything else can wait until he’s done being righteously angry on his best friend’s behalf. His own stress can wait until his best friend is safe. “Or–or spy or whatever he’s making you do–”

“He’s not _making_ me do anything,” Sakuya shoots back. “He’s asking and I’m–I’m saying yes.”

“But do you want to say yes?” Sakuya looks away. “You told me you wanted to go to France next year. And beat Deijima’s score in physics this year. And beat your personal record on taiko drums. You never said anything about wanting to be a murder–”

“It’s not about what I want!” Sakuya shouts, and then glances to the police doors. None of the officers come back out to demand what trouble they’re causing now, and Sakuya lowers his voice when he speaks again. “You don’t get _it_ , Mahiru. Not only have you never had no one, you’ve never even had someone who hated you. Your mom, your uncle, our teachers at school, our classmates–everyone you meet loves you.”

Sakuya gestures over to where Misono and Lily still argue with Misono’s dad, who looks ready to bodily drag Misono away. “I bet you’ve only known them for a week, and that kid’s already down to take a bullet for you.”

“I’d do the same for you,” Mahiru says, throat tightening at Sakuya’s words. “For all of you.”

“That’s not the point, Mahiru.”

“Then–”

“My parents hated me,” Sakuya cuts in, and all of Mahiru’s half-formed arguments dry up in an instant. “Every time I messed up, they slapped me. Told me I was a waste of space and money. The first time I failed a test in first year of high school, they beat me and left me out in the rain as punishment.”

Distantly, Mahiru hears again Lily and Kuro arguing about family in the car. Hears again Lily’s light laughter as he called Mahiru an only child. Hears again his own naïve arguments that family could never truly hurt each other. “Tsubaki’s the one who found. The one who gave me a place to stay, who gave me money for school and clothes and food. The only one who ever treated me like family, the only adult who ever told me I was worth something.”

Sakuya stares at him, waiting, but Mahiru can barely breathe again let alone speak. “I can’t–after everything he did for me, how can I tell him no?”

“Just because someone helped you,” Misono’s soft voice breaks the following silence only a second later, “doesn’t mean you should feel indebted to them.”

“Rich words coming from a brat who’s never slept on the floor before,” Sakuya snarls, “let alone been homeless.”

“Just because they’re a parent,” Misono says through his scowl, “doesn’t mean you should do everything they say.”

Mahiru turns slightly to see Misono’s father gone, though a tired Lily stands by his side. Kuro exits the police station just as Mahiru drags words from his screaming brain.

“Sakuya, please,” he says softly. He grabs Sakuya’s wrist again, and this time his best friend doesn’t pull away. “Do you want to kill anyone?”

“Not really,” Sakuya finally says. He closes his eyes. “Tsubaki doesn’t really want to either, you know. Not today, anyways. He wanted me to get Kuro to come with me.”

“I told Tsurugi not to worry about you for now,” Kuro says, and Sakuya’s eyes fly open. “Since Mahiru doesn’t want you in jail and all that.”

Kuro takes a single step in Sakuya’s direction, and his pale eyes go far colder than any university student’s has the right to. “But if you _ever_ point a knife at Mahiru again–”

“I don’t want to–”

“Sakuya would never hurt me,” Mahiru says firmly over Sakuya, and Kuro swings a disbelieving gaze to him. The skepticism should make Mahiru bristle, but he’s too relieved to see a familiar emotion on Kuro’s face. “Right, Sakuya?”

“How can you still defend me?” Sakuya demands, despite what he was about to say to Kuro.

“I already told you, you never lied about being my best friend. And you just told us you weren’t doing this because you wanted to hurt people.”

“Still,” Misono starts to say.

“Just come with us, Sakuya,” Mahiru says, and now four sets of disbelieving eyes land on him.

“What?” Sakuya and Misono chorus as Kuro simply groans.

“You don’t have to go back to Tsubaki when you have other people who care about you,” Mahiru reminds him. “So come stay at my apartment. Then you won’t have to hurt anyone, and it’s not like we’re going to kill Tsubaki. We just want him to stop hurting everyone else.”

“I doubt the police will be as forgiving a second time if you wind up in the middle of another fight,” Misono adds, which causes a strange look to skitter over both siblings’ faces, but they say nothing.

“I literally just explained why I can’t go against him,” Sakuya says after a pause.

“But you also just said you didn’t want to hurt Mahiru,” Lily points out, sounding as friendly as ever.

“Do you know what he wants?” Kuro asks suddenly. “If we know that, maybe we can solve this peacefully.”

Sakuya slowly looks to Kuro and the terribleness in his gaze nearly makes Mahiru step between the two just to shield Kuro.

“For you to hurt as much as you hurt him,” Sakuya says.

“I’ve never met him until now.”

“That doesn’t mean you never hurt him.” Sakuya shakes his head when Mahiru opens his mouth. “I don’t know _how_ it happened or what his endgame is. I just know his next step.”

“Which is?” Misono demands at the same time Mahiru says,

“Sakuya, please. Just don’t go back.”

Sakuya closes his eyes once again, and no one dares to break his internal struggle. The noises and lights of the city provide a constant backtrack, but no one moves to turn up the volume. Mahiru just stands there, holding his wrist, and half tempted to simply drag Sakuya back to his apartment where they can keep him out of whatever trouble he’s gotten himself into while Mahiru wasn’t paying attention. He can’t think of a solution knowing Sakuya will be standing on the other side, in the shadow Tsubaki’s threat casts.

When Sakuya opens his eyes, Mahiru sees everything he can’t say reflected in his friend’s eyes. He sees the slump of Sakuya’s shoulders and the swallowed sigh that burns his chest, and he thinks his friend is just as tired as Kuro is, of things Mahiru might not ever understand.

“Okay, I’ll come back with you for a couple of days,” Sakuya says, giving Mahiru a wan smile. “You never did like losing an argument.”

Then he raises his voice to announce to the siblings,

“He’s going after Hyde next.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Three things about my thought process this chapter 
> 
> 1) Me: You know we still don’t know about Kuro’s past before becoming a vamp, it’s quite possible he was a human with a loving background before all that and that’s why he was upset about being turned into a vamp  
> Me @ me: Give him a tragic backstory even before the vamp parallels to emphasize his self-loathing and way he purposefully distances himself from people
> 
> 2) Me, every time Kuro responds to Mahiru’s questions about being hurt with a simple “I’m a vampire after all” and therefore implying that since his physical wounds heal quickly, his pain should simply be dismissed and never a concern to Mahiru: *dies inside*  
> Me, every time Mahiru does ask if Kuro’s okay even though by this point he’s been told that vampires heal quickly and Kuro has reminded him of such fact: *lives again*
> 
> 3) I still remember the first time I ever watched the episode with Sakuya’s reveal and how quickly I went from “omg Sakuya you piece of shit” to “OH MY GOD, SOMEONE PROTECT THIS BOY RIGHT NOW BEFORE I DO IT MYSELF”
> 
> Thank you all for your continued kudos, comments, and support; every single one makes my day a little brighter. I will be going travelling in the next 2 weeks so unfortunately it might take me longer than usual to update.


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Because I like you the way you are,” Kuro finally admits, but the statement only triggers more questions.

Mahiru wakes before his alarm and before everyone else the next morning. Misono and Lily agreed the other day to come by with coffee and donuts by nine in order for them to all discuss their next action with Sakuya’s new information. Mahiru argued they should simply go find Hyde right away but both Lily and Kuro hesitated. Misono nor Sakuya seemed to know why, so they all simply agreed with the morning meeting.

Mahiru pads out into his living room where Kuro sleeps on the couch. The sight of Kuro nestled under his blankets with Sleepy Ash eases some of the tension Mahiru woke with, and finding Sakuya still asleep in his uncle’s bedroom destroys the rest of it.

With ample time before Misono and Lily arrive, Mahiru busies himself with quietly preparing some food for everyone in the kitchen. Having something normal to do with his hands helps him go over the conversations and events of yesterday without panicking like he did in the holding cell.

Sleepy Ash joins him half an hour later when Mahiru sits at the table with his laptop and a coffee by his hand. The shuffling of feet a few minutes later draws Mahiru’s gaze up to where Kuro stands.

He keeps one of the blankets wrapped around his shoulders while he takes the seat opposite Mahiru with sleepy eyes. His hair sticks up at every angle and still manages to look as soft as his cat’s fur. The pillow has left red indents on one of his cheeks, he buries his chin in the fluffy blankets, and Mahiru can’t stop the thought of _cute_ from flitting through his mind despite witnessing how dangerous Kuro can be.

“You know you don’t have to feel indebted to me, right?” Mahiru says, shoving away his other thoughts with more force than necessary. Kuro blinks, and some focus slides into his eyes.

“Indebted?” Kuro repeats without understanding.

“Yeah. Misono brought it up last night with Sakuya and it got me thinking. I don’t want you to feel like this–me offering you a place to stay and all that–is something you should feel indebted about.”

Kuro sits quietly for a few seconds and Sleepy Ash nudges his hand.

“Then what should I feel?”

Kuro props his chin on his hands and his attention means Mahiru can only blurt the truth.

“We’re friends,” Mahiru says even though neither of them has said as much.

The word can’t capture the gleam of blades Kuro has blocked for Mahiru, nor the way Mahiru’s lungs clench at the memory of blood on Kuro’s skin. Held up against the memory of Kuro in the holding cell, the word appears a flimsy, transparent piece of cellophane, but it’s the best Mahiru has.

“Equals,” Mahiru continues. “So I don’t want you to feel indebted or anything like that.”

“You don’t want us to be like Tsubaki and Sakuya, you mean,” Kuro supplies.

“I would really hope we’re nowhere close but. Yeah. I just wanted to be sure.”

“I’m grateful,” Kuro finally says after looking away and then back at Mahiru. “Even though you never stop nagging me. But I’m not gonna treat you like a god or something.”

“Okay, good,” Mahiru says, and doesn’t miss the way Kuro’s face softens when he lowers his hands to start petting Sleepy Ash. The urge to be pressed side-by-side like usual suddenly fills Mahiru as he watches the two, and when Kuro looks up at him again, something catches in Mahiru’s chest.

“Why didn’t you room with one of your siblings?” Mahiru asks gently like he’s been wanting to for weeks when Kuro just keeps staring at him. Kuro stiffens and Mahiru instinctively reaches for his hand when he starts to draw away. “Kuro, I just told you I was fine with you being here. I’m not asking you to leave. I’m just–curious.”

“Because we’re friends?” Kuro asks, searching for something in Mahiru’s face.

“Yeah.”

“Except you’re curious about everything and everyone,” Kuro says, “And the more I tell you, the more curious you get, and the more you dig, and the more you get involved.”

“You told Tsurugi at the station that I wasn’t involved,” Mahiru remembers at Kuro’s words. “Why?”

Kuro looks away, but Mahiru holds his hand in place. “I’m already involved.”

“That doesn’t mean you have to dig your own grave,” Kuro snaps, and Sleepy Ash dashes away at the sudden harshness in his voice. Mahiru just waits, but Kuro doesn’t say anything more.

“Is that why you didn’t go to your siblings? Because you didn’t want to get them involved?”

Kuro shrugs.

“We take care of ourselves.”

“Except when you don’t,” Mahiru points out, because he can’t pretend he understands any longer. “You and Lily said I didn’t understand because I’m an only child. Sakuya said I couldn’t understand because I’ve never had someone who was supposed to love me hate me. So explain it to me. Make me understand.”

Kuro squeezes his eyes shut and Mahiru grips his hand a little harder.

“I can’t.”

“Why not?”

Kuro just keeps his jaw locked and his eyes shut tighter. Mahiru tries finding the answer in his friend’s strained face, in his warm fingers, and in the lines of his body. But for all of Mahiru’s skill at empathising with people, he lacks the background that would help him understand, just as Sakuya claimed.

Mahiru has suffered loss before, but there has always been someone around to help him back up from his stumbles. He has never felt anything but love toward his family and friends, and has only ever idly wondered about siblings in a positive light. The only time he dreaded getting out of his bed was immediately following his mother’s death, and his regrets have only ever been small scratches that fade as soon as he notices them. Before Tsubaki, no one ever approached him with violence, and nothing ever loomed impossible.  

He has, for most of his life, been happy.

So Mahiru waits in silence as the light streaming through the kitchen grows brighter and Sakuya starts to move around in his uncle’s bedroom.

“Because I like you the way you are,” Kuro finally admits, but the statement only triggers more questions.

“I don’t see why learning about your family would change that,” Mahiru tells him, and Kuro only opens his eyes long enough to give Mahiru an utterly despairing look before dropping his head onto the table with a groan.

“I can’t deal with this,” he mutters, hand still clasped in Mahiru’s. “It’s too early to deal with anything, let alone _this_.”

Sakuya wanders into the room before Mahiru can answer, hesitating when he catches sight of the two of them. Mahiru releases Kuro so he can get up to grab a glass for Sakuya and ask how he slept. They retreat to the couches soon after, though Sakuya and Kuro sit on opposite couches as far away from each other as they can. Mahiru rolls their eyes at both of them, but before he can come up with a safe topic, Kuro says,

“Mahiru says you like memes.”

“Only the dankest,” Sakuya agrees after a moment, and Mahiru makes a face.

“Please stop using that word in my apartment,” Mahiru tells him.

“First vore, and now this,” Sakuya replies with mock offense. “I won’t be able to say a single word at this rate.”

Mahiru rolls his eyes, but the doorbell rings before he can answer. He leaves Kuro and Sakuya to their tense survey of each other in order to let Misono and Lily inside. They all busy themselves with handing out the proper drinks to each person and getting the pack of donuts open. Mahiru passes around the plates and the fruit, and for a moment all of the awkwardness of the situation is forgotten as they scramble to get the donut they want.

Silence descends once they all have food on their plates and drinks in front of them on the coffee table. Kuro shoves a donut into his mouth with a look of concentration Mahiru reserves for his exams, and the others all look around at each other. Kuro, Lily, and Misono all claimed the couch opposite of Sakuya, so Mahiru pointedly took a seat beside him.

“So,” Sakuya finally says, “you guys come here often?”

It is a poor attempt at his usual humour, but the effort makes Mahiru smile. Misono, meanwhile, just scowls.

“So this is really okay?” Misono asks, despite his advice to Sakuya the other night. “Tsubaki’s not going to be concerned about all this?”

Sakuya shrugs, drawing one knee up to his chest.

“I already told him I failed,” Sakuya says, which makes all of them tense. “But it’s not like he minds if I wander off for a few days. He’s not my handler.”

“And he also doesn’t mind you telling us your plans?”

“I don’t think telling you is going to stop him,” Sakuya says honestly, and Mahiru can see all the warring emotions in the lines of his tense body even if his voice stays composed. “So, no. Sides, I don’t have any details to tell you. All I have is a name.”

“Right,” Mahiru breaks in after taking a sip of his coffee. “Which is why we should be finding him right away. Warn him, at least.”

He slides a glance to Kuro, who just tears pieces off another donut without looking at Mahiru. “We could even tell the police.”

“Hyde goes to our university,” Lily tells them, neatly sidestepping the mention of the police. “His friend is practicing for a concert today, so he’ll probably be there. So if we want to talk to him, he’s not too far.”

“Lily was talking to Hugh last night,” Misono tells Mahiru. “He said he wanted to meet with us today since things are getting crazier, and he thinks he saw Tsubaki.”

“Okay,” Mahiru says, perking up with the new plan and the caffeine now running through his veins. “So you guys go meet with Hugh, and we’ll talk to Hyde.”

“I don’t think that’s a good idea,” Kuro finally speaks up through a mouthful of donut. Mahiru turns to him with a frown.

“Why not?”

Kuro shrugs, and keeps his gaze on his donut. Mahiru glances at Lily, but the other sibling simply sits in silence sipping his tea. He watches Kuro as well, a furrow in his brow, but no other answers in his sad eyes.

“Hyde’s temperamental,” Kuro finally answers.

He still won’t look at Mahiru.

“And? He’s your brother so you must know how to deal with it, right?” Kuro just hunches further. “Kuro, seriously.”

“I just don’t think it’s a good idea,” Kuro says, his answer as impossible to understand as the conversation in the kitchen that morning. Mahiru swallows frustration, but it burns in his chest and sends his confused thoughts into a frenzy.

“But _why_?” When Kuro stays quiet, Mahiru pushes on in all his righteous stubbornness. “We need to warn him and he could help us! So what’s the problem?”

“Just–” After a long second, Kuro finally drags his gaze up to Mahiru’s. Mahiru crosses his arms over his chest and waits, but the sight of his determination only makes Kuro slump more. He closes his eyes once, and when he opens them again, there is the same terrible acceptance Mahiru saw in his face right before the professor starting verbally ripping into him the first day they met.

“Alright,” Kuro agrees quietly. He goes back to staring at the food, and Mahiru turns his attention to Lily.

“Do you have any other idea where he’ll be today?”

“He said he’s been hanging around this international student lately,” Lily tells him. “Or, his Facebook and Instagram has. His friend is Licht Jekylland Todori, and apparently he’s playing at our university in a week. Rentaro Hall, and Hyde’s Instagram said he’s practicing there every day.”

“Perfect,” Mahiru says, and doesn’t notice the way Kuro curls further into himself.

He also doesn’t notice Sakuya pulling Kuro aside right before they leave to say,

“If anything happens to him, it’s on you,” or Kuro’s hunched acceptance and tense nod.

Lily notices and squeezes Kuro’s shoulder briefly, and Misono watches and gives Sakuya a similar warning about causing any further trouble. But then they are heading into Lily’s car to meet Hugh, and Kuro is following Mahiru onto the bus to their university campus while Sakuya waits at Mahiru’s home.

***

Once they know Licht’s name, he is rather easy to track down. If Lily hadn’t told them about Rentaro Hall, the posters all over the Student Centre would have given them all the necessary information. Mahiru needs to check the campus map briefly before he’s leading the way with Kuro trailing behind with his hands shoved into the pockets of his jeans.

“When did Hyde become join your foster family?” Mahiru asks on the way.

“He was eleven.”

It’s the only thing Kuro says on the way, but their plan distracts Mahiru from his quiet tone.

Rentaro Hall possesses both a couple of classrooms on the second and third floors, and the concert hall on the first floor. A sign has been stuck on the massive oaken doors leading to the concert hall proclaiming the room in use. All other students wander by without a single glance for the sign or doors, but Mahiru slips inside after a quick look around.

Music greets them the second they step inside. Row upon row of empty red cushioned seats stretch in front of them and down to the wooden stage lit by a single spotlight. A classical piano rests in the halo of light and a single student sits on the bench. His fingers dance across the keys and Mahiru, who knows very little about music especially classical music, finds the melody stealing all of his breath.

It’s not just the music, Mahiru notes as they take careful steps down the carpeted aisle, but the confidence the boy plays with. He doesn’t even keep his eyes open, and no sheet music rests on the piano. He wears a black hoodie and white jeans like a million other students on campus, and yet the distance between where he sits on the stage and Mahiru stands looms like the empty space between the earth and the moon.

“I didn’t realize there were special preview tickets,” a voice calls when they are halfway to the stage. Mahiru and Kuro stop, and a boy tears himself from the shadows of the chairs at the front.

His hair is a deeper blond than Lily’s, with black roots and red framed glasses on his curious face. Like Lily, he wears a dangling scarf and a chain rests around his neck, but his white shirt hides what lies at the end.

“Sorry,” Mahiru says, and moves closer. “Are you Hyde?”

“Yeah,” the boy standing says, just as the one playing the piano stops. Angel wings sticking out from the pianist’s backpack gleam in the light.

“What the hell did I tell you about interrupting?” he calls down to Hyde, who gives him a grin and mocking salute.

“Hey, I’m just trying to keep the riff-raff out, bae!”

“Sorry,” Mahiru says again as the boy on stage glares down at Hyde. “You must be Licht. We didn’t mean to interrupt, but we really needed to talk to you. It’s an emergency.”

“We?” Hyde repeats, and then notices Kuro standing hunched behind Mahiru for the first time.

Everything in Hyde’s face shutters to a standstill as Licht stands up from the piano with a huff. When Hyde continues to stand perfectly still, both Mahiru and Licht frown.

“Um, yeah, I’m Mahiru,” Mahiru begins, and then Hyde starts laughing.

“So _that’s_ why Lily was asking what I was up to,” Hyde says to Kuro, his grin a thing of broken glass and broken bones. “Didn’t realize you were doing social calls now, big bro.”

Sarcasm drips from his voice when he calls Kuro his brother, and Hyde moves to close the distance between them with careless hands and carefree steps. Licht hops down from the stage when it’s clear Hyde intends to keep talking.

“And you even brought a friend?” Hyde raises an eyebrow at Mahiru briefly before turning his gaze back to the quiet Kuro. “Damn, are you dying? Or perhaps a sheep in a wolf’s clothes?”

He spins suddenly and throws his hand out toward the lit stage. “‘Conceal me what I am, and be my aid for such disguise as haply shall become the form of my intent.’”

Licht snorts and Mahiru just stares as Hyde spins back to face them.

“Um, yeah, hi, I’m Kuro’s friend,” Mahiru says, and pushing through the bizarre behaviour with a polite smile. “Nice to meet you.”

Hyde tilts his head a little and then without any further warning, punches Mahiru squarely in the jaw.

Shouts fill Mahiru’s ears and he would have fallen right over if not for Kuro grabbing him. The shock of being punched for the first time takes away some of the anger but none of the pain, and Mahiru’s bending over with his hands clasped to his face before he can help it. Tears burn in the corners of his eyes, but when he prods at his teeth with his tongue, none of them are loose. A bit of blood pools in his mouth from where he bit his tongue, and he swallows the copper taste down when Kuro’s fingers dig into his shoulder.

“–doesn’t even know how to fight?” Hyde is saying when Mahiru can focus on words again, and not the burning in his jaw. Kuro keeps an arm wrapped around Mahiru, but glares at his little brother who only shakes his head. “That wasn’t even a fast punch.”

“Most normal people don’t know how to fight,” Kuro grits out, and jerks his head toward Licht. “Did you punch _him_ before you decided to be his friend?”

“No, but he does know self-defense,” Hyde shoots back without any remorse. “And Licht’s interesting. Talented. How’d you find yours? Pick the most normal kid you could find on the street one day?”

“We have class together,” Mahiru gasps out, for talking creates little spikes of pain in his jaw. He straightens out of Kuro’s grip, and Hyde stares.

“What, that’s it?” He turns to Kuro who looks torn between punching Hyde himself and just turning tail and running. “A couple years of self-isolation and then you just turn around and decide to spill everything to some random kid who sits next to you in class?”

“Spill everything?” Mahiru cuts in before Kuro can respond. “Does that mean you know something about Tsubaki?”

“Who the fuck is Tsubaki?” Licht asks. He keeps giving Hyde sharp looks, like this conversation is yet another strange piece in a long game of Tetris. Hyde either doesn’t notice, or doesn’t care to notice.

“This man who’s been attacking us,” Mahiru says, and looks to Hyde. “Your foster family. He’s already attacked Kuro and Lily, and you’ll probably be next.”

“Never heard of him,” Hyde says with a shrug. “Don’t see why you needed me for that.”

“You could be in danger! And maybe you could help us–”

“Like one guy itching for a fight is a problem for us,” Hyde snorts, boredom filling his eyes in a heartbeat. “Sides, Kuro can handle that shit on his own, just like he always does. Right, bro?”

“Just cuz Kuro’s independent doesn’t mean he should have to handle this on his own,” Mahiru replies with a frown. Hyde opens his mouth, but falters at the way Mahiru juts out his chin. He blinks, and then suddenly all of his focus narrows in on Mahiru’s face.

“Wait,” he says, and then glances over at Kuro. “You don’t know?”

“Know what?”

“You’ve been attacked by some madman, you’re running around playing the vigilante, and you didn’t even tell him?”

He directs the last part at Kuro, and Licht looks as confused as Mahiru feels when Hyde laughs.

“He doesn’t know how to fight, he doesn’t know anything about us, and you’ve just been letting him go around playing with knives?”

Hyde holds his face in his hands as he tries to control his laughter and Kuro scowls.

“I haven’t been letting him do anything. He’s the one who wanted to help. And Lily’s been training him.”

“Oh, ok, fine. He screams all shonen protag and you–what? Follow him around like a puppy? Pretend like you can be boring and normal like him?”

“I already know Kuro didn’t have a normal upbringing like me,” Mahiru cuts in, but he’s lost control of the conversation. He’s lost control since the second he stepped inside, the moment Hyde noticed his older brother standing there on the edges of the light. “He has a foster family and you all know how to fight. And you don’t talk to each other like other siblings but–”

“But why?” Hyde cuts in with the gleam of a blade in his eyes, and Mahiru falters. “He never told you right? Never told you anything about our childhood or what he did or how we know the police so well.”

“ _You_ never told me about that,” Licht points out, but Hyde just waves his words away.

“But _I_ wasn’t a major player in that affair. Kuro was the star, the director, the writer, the decider of all our fates. Long ago, when we all shared the same foster father–”

“Shut up, Hyde,” Kuro interrupts, and Hyde laughs.

“Why should I? It’s such a dramatic tale after all, especially once you got Tsurugi involved–”

“I said, shut up!”

Hyde just laughs again and Mahiru stares as Kuro takes a step toward his sibling. He has seen blood on Kuro’s face and a knife in his hand, but never has he seen such desperate anger clouding Kuro’s eyes before.  

“Make me,” Hyde shoots back, crowding into Kuro’s personal space. “It’s not gonna stop him from ending up dead or in jail cuz of yo–”

Kuro swings his fist at Hyde’s head, but the other student blocks with careless hysteria twisting his face. Mahiru can only step back as the two start throwing punches in earnest, neither one of them able to get a solid hit on the other.

Despite all of Sakuya’s comments, Kuro’s hesitation, Tsubaki’s violence, and Lily’s subtle warnings, Mahiru finds himself frozen in the face of all the twisted parts of the siblings’ relationship. His words are clunky things caught in the lining of his throat, and his thoughts are just Kuro’s name stuck on repeat.

Hyde’s fist glances off Kuro’s shoulder, but the victory twisting his mouth doesn’t match all the pained questions swimming in his bright eyes.

“Enough!”

Suddenly Licht gets between them and sends both of his arms slamming into their foreheads. They both go crashing to the floor, clutching at their heads with curses as Licht glares down at Hyde.

“Deal with your family issues on your own time, not my practice time,” Licht says coldly to Hyde.

“Why are you always so violent,” Hyde complains, but Licht just swings his gaze to Mahiru. The stare only lasts five seconds, but Licht seems to peel apart every inch of him and discards it all within a heartbeat.

“Unless you’re here to listen, leave,” Licht says, and Hyde slowly climbs to his feet. Kuro stays hunched on the floor.

The concert hall doors bang open before Mahiru can get a word out, and Licht looks up with the slightest hints of alarm.

“What on earth is going on in here?” the new man asks, stalking down the aisle with a disapproving look for both Hyde and Licht. He stops suddenly at the sight of Mahiru and Kuro, and Licht shoves his hands into his pockets like a petulant child. “One of your friends?”

“Hyde’s brother apparently,” Licht says, at the same time Mahiru introduces himself and Kuro politely despite the frantic pace of his heart. Hyde just looks bored, and adjusts his glasses.

“Right well if that’s all,” Hyde says, and starts to stride past them. “I’ve got a part-time job to go to.”

“You can’t be serious!” Mahiru grabs Hyde’s wrist despite everything he just witnessed and the pain from Hyde’s fist still pulsing in his jaw. “Didn’t you hear what we just said? You’re in danger.”

“Danger?” the new man says, gaze swinging back and forth between all of them. But Hyde just pulls away from Mahiru with a growing frown in his eyes and grin pasted on his face.

“I just kicked your ass and you’re still concerned about my safety?” he says.

“Yes,” Mahiru answers simply, because he doesn’t want to see anyone get stabbed, and he didn’t miss the grim edges in Hyde’s eyes when he fought Kuro. Everything is moving too fast, including his own thoughts, and Mahiru wants to tell everyone if they just slow down, they can work things out.

But his answer holds Hyde still for only a second, and he flicks his gaze toward Kuro who still sits on the ground. Then he tilts his head at Mahiru.

“You look like the innocent flower,” Hyde says, “And for once, no serpent underneath.”

He turns away before Mahiru can reply, and then calls over his shoulder to Kuro,

“Careful he doesn’t get crushed.”

The door slams shut and leaves the remaining people in silence. The man is the first to move again, turning to Mahiru and asking him to explain the situation. He listens while Licht hops back to sit on the stage, heels swinging into the wood. Kuro stays crouched on the ground, offering nothing to the conversation even when Mahiru says his name or glances to him.

“Thank you for warning us,” says the man who has since introduced himself as Kranz, “And I apologize if the two gave you any trouble. They’re both still learning their manners.”

“They’re the ones who came barging into my practice,” Licht mutters, but he is less aloof adult around Kranz, and more a scolded child.

“And that gave you leave to get into a fight?” Kranz asks, and Licht scowls.

“That was Hyde.”

“And I’m sure you tried your hardest to stop him.”

“I’m not his handler,” Licht replies, and Kranz sighs.

“No, but you are his friend.”

His scowl darkens, but consideration lights in his eyes as he stares off at the empty chairs. Kranz turns back to Mahiru and offers a smile.

“Thank you again,” Kranz tells him. “I promise I’ll keep an eye on them and let you know if anything happens. Can I get your contact information?”

They exchange phone numbers and then Mahiru turns to Licht with only a slight hesitation. He gives up his contact information after Mahiru asking and Kranz prodding.

“You should really learn more about the whole situation before you go barging into it,” Licht tells him as he puts his number in Mahiru’s phone.

He jerks his chin toward Kuro where he now stands waiting at the exit. He’s pulled his hood up, and none of them can make out his face with his body turned toward the shadows. When Licht looks back to Mahiru, he stares pointedly at the spot on Mahiru’s jaw that is now swelling.

“I don’t really have any talent for fighting,” Mahiru says. “Or these kinds of situations.”

“So learn,” Licht says with a snort, and gives Mahiru his phone back.

“Just like that?” Mahiru asks when Licht doesn’t add anything.

“Just like that,” Licht confirms, and steps away. “If you want something, then dedicate yourself to it. Otherwise you have no right to complain.”

“And that’s why I handle most of the media,” Kranz says, but a fond smile pulls at his lips.

Licht just goes back to his piano, and Mahiru joins Kuro at the doors after one more thank you to Kranz. Kuro starts walking away before Mahiru even reaches him, and Mahiru has to jog to catch up with him once they are outside.

“Are you okay?” Mahiru finally asks after they walk in silence for a long moment. He can only see the outline of Kuro’s face with his hood pulled up, and all the violence of the last few minutes rests heavy on Kuro’s shoulders.

“I’m gonna go get snacks,” Kuro says. “You should put ice on your jaw when you get home.”

“What, by yourself?”

“I’ll be fine. I’ll just go to the campus one.”

“Kuro, no. It’s not safe.”

“I’ll be fine,” Kuro says, his voice dull in a way that makes Mahiru’s throat go painfully tight.

“Kuro,” Mahiru begins, but falters.

He wants to argue and he wants to ask questions, but Kuro twists his body away and his voice sounds so empty compared to the desperation from back in the concert hall. Mahiru can’t look at Kuro without hearing what Hyde said, and seeing the violence still hanging off Kuro’s clenched hands.

He doesn’t know how to turn the memories off, doesn’t know what to do with doubt and a past that threatens to tear apart the ground at their feet. He doesn’t know what to do with a Kuro who fought his family when just that morning he teased Lily for getting jam all over his fingers.  

Mahiru doesn’t know what to do when the hand he wants to hold was once caked in blood.

So he runs a hand through his hair and simply insists that he’ll go with Kuro. Kuro shrugs and keeps heading to the store. Neither of them say a word, and whenever Mahiru glances at Kuro’s face, anything he wants to say dries up at the blank look on Kuro’s face.

Kuro trails behind Mahiru when they head back to the apartment, and curls into a ball on the farthest corner of the couch with his snacks. The others all gather around to hear what happened and share their news, but Kuro doesn’t say a word even when Lily goes over to whisper something.

So Mahiru turns his thoughts to the others and the simpler matter of writing down all of the information they’ve gathered.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Rentaro Hall is named after Rentaro Taki, a famous Japanese pianist and composer. 
> 
> “‘Conceal me what I am..." is from Twelfth Night. 
> 
> The innocent flower and serpent comment is a reference to MacBeth, "Look like th' innocent flower, But be the serpent under 't."
> 
> The episode of canon this reflected resulted in so much screaming on my part, I hope I've managed to do it justice.
> 
> Thank you all so much for being patient and leaving such kind comments while I worked on getting this next chapter up. I hope the chapter was worth the wait and you enjoyed the Greed pair's return.


	8. Chapter 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “You like Kuro.”
> 
> “Well, of course. He’s my friend.”
> 
> “Mahiru.”

Kuro has already left for his classes when Mahiru wakes the next morning. Silence hangs heavy in the apartment and on Mahiru’s shoulders when he wanders into the main room and spots the blankets folded up on the end of the couch. He spends a few minutes calling for Sleepy Ash, but eventually realizes Kuro must have taken his pet to school.

Mahiru doesn’t have class that day until Kuro and his shared psychology lecture in the afternoon, and so he surveys the apartment for a long moment as he runs through a chore list in his head. With no new leads on Tsubaki and the rest of Kuro’s siblings warned, Mahiru and the others can do nothing more that day. Misono had written down the option of calling the police once more when neither Lily nor Kuro protested, but for the moment, they will simply wait.

Mahiru should be grateful for the respite. A pile of dirty dishes glares at him from the sink, his unopened textbooks wait patiently for him on the table, and the whole place could use a thorough vacuum. He hasn’t replied to his uncle’s email yet saying he would be gone for another few weeks and checking to make sure Mahiru was okay.

Not to mention, his presentation with Kuro is in less than two weeks and neither the slideshow nor their cue cards have been completed.

So Mahiru gets to work with no one around to distract him. He makes himself breakfast and then cleans the whole kitchen. Sakuya still sleeps in his uncle’s bedroom, so Mahiru avoids the vacuum for the moment, but he dusts every surface he can get his hands on and cleans the bathroom.

Even after all of the cleaning, his hands still twitch for something to do and his skin feels too tight stretched across all of his thin bones. But he simply pours himself a mug of coffee and then settles at the table, scowling only briefly at the stack of textbooks before getting to work on all of the homework he has been neglecting.

The apartment grows brighter and brighter with the passing time, and Mahiru finds himself constantly distracted despite there being no one else in the room. Every time he looks up from his books, he expects to see Kuro sitting on the couch with a DS in hand or the TV on, and every time the absence makes Mahiru pause for a few seconds.

The couch stays empty, the TV screen black, and the lack of background noise grates on Mahiru’s ears the longer he studies. He frowns down at his notebook when he realizes he has come to view Kuro’s presence as a constant in life. Kuro perches on the counter whenever they make dinner, and hunches in the chair opposite whenever they eat. He lounges on the couch when Mahiru cleans the apartment, dragging Mahiru over to the television whenever Kuro thinks Mahiru has been working for too long despite Mahiru’s habitual excuses.

He leans against Mahiru’s side and fiddles with his DS or pens whenever Mahiru studies, and Mahiru never pushes himself off despite the way his body heat sometimes makes him sleepy.

He has become one of the first things Mahiru sees when he wakes in the morning, and the last person Mahiru talks to every night.

Sakuya finally comes into the main room when Mahiru has checked his phone for the fifth time to find no new messages from Kuro. His friend gathers his breakfast in silence for the most part, though he offers Mahiru a wild story when he sits down to eat. Mahiru welcomes the distraction and Sakuya’s easy smile for a while before he forces his wavering attention back to his studying.

Twenty minutes later, he’s still struggling through one paragraph of reading while the silence fills his lungs like a noxious gas. He glances at his phone again, even though it’s set on vibrate and hasn’t made a single noise since he woke.

“You really like him, don’t you,” Sakuya’s soft voice breaks the quiet, and Mahiru drags his gaze up to his friend’s face. All hints of Sakuya’s teasing have fled his bright eyes, and gentle understanding smooths out the tired lines of his expression.

“What?” Mahiru asks, even though they both notice the way his hands have gone perfectly still and his voice shakes slightly at the question.

“You like Kuro.”

“Well, of course. He’s my friend.”

“Mahiru.”       

Mahiru sighs, and curls his fingers around his phone the same way Kuro’s curled around his knee that night in the holding cell. The same way they often grip Mahiru’s wrist or hold Sleepy Ash with a fondness in his normally tired eyes that makes Mahiru’s chest ache to look at for too long.

The same way Mahiru suddenly wishes to hold Kuro’s hand in his.

“I don’t know,” Mahiru answers, and Sakuya laughs a little, but the understanding stays in his eyes. A soothing attempt at comfort runs through the words he gives Mahiru.

A comfort Mahiru should have given Kuro the other day.

“You’re usually the straightforward one,” Sakuya says, grinning a little. “I’m not sure what to do when I’m the one who has to say things are simple.”

Defending Kuro when someone was treating him unfairly, that was simple. Leaving Kuro alone would have been simple. Taking him in when he had nowhere else to go, offering him support when he was clearly exhausted; those things were all simple.

This knot that emotions left tangled and sharp in Mahiru’s chest and throat after all that he witnessed the other day; this, Mahiru can’t grasp as simply as he does so many other things.

“What do you want, Mahiru?” Sakuya asks when Mahiru buries his face in his hands with a confused groan.

“I want to talk to him,” he says instantly despite his confusion, “like I should have yesterday. Actually, I don’t even care if we talk, I just want to see him. I want–”

He has never had an issue with being honest with himself, but suddenly he can’t seem to express anything coherently. Maybe it would be easier if Kuro sat with them, steadying out everything and never hesitating with his easy physical contact.

Mahiru peeks out from behind his fingers and glares at his laptop screen.

“I thought you didn’t like him,” Mahiru says, and glances at Sakuya instead of parsing out a better answer for his friend.

Sakuya shrugs.

“I don’t like that he dragged you into this mess.”

“He didn’t drag me anywhere,” Mahiru gets out in exasperation, and Sakuya studies him.

“You followed him, yeah?”

“Yeah.”

Sakuya smiles a little, even though his hands grip the edges of the wooden table.

“Well, I think your constant defense of him,” Sakuya drawls, “And you’re willingness to follow him off a cliff to keep him safe is a pretty solid answer. And that’s not even mentioning that fact that you’ve looked grumpy as fuck ever since I got in here all because he hasn’t texted you.”

Mahiru can’t even argue with that, and Sakuya simply tells him not to overthink the issue before he heads out. Mahiru calls after him not to get in trouble, but Sakuya just waves away his concern.

Then Mahiru is alone again and all his thoughts return to the issue of the other day.

Five minutes later his phone vibrating breaks his pensive mood, and he almost sends the cellphone flying off the table in his haste to grab it. But the text message lighting up his screen comes from an unknown number, and his hands start shaking when he finishes the message.

 _“World-famous Pianist Brutally Murdered in the Middle of His International Exchange”,_ the message read, _“Body of Classmate Found in the River Nearby.” Makes for an interesting headline, don’t you think?_

Mahiru has to reread the message three times before the meaning settles as more than white noise in his brain. By that point, his phone lights up with an incoming call from Misono, and he answers right away.

“Misono, did you get a text message too?” Mahiru asks instead of a greeting.

“The one about people getting murdered?” Misono says, and Mahiru can hear the grimace in his voice. “Yes. Lily and I are on our way to your apartment. You still there?”

“Yeah, I’m–”

_Kuro._

“Mahiru?”

“Kuro’s not here,” Mahiru chokes out. “He went to campus for class but he hasn’t come back yet.”

Mahiru says nothing as Misono relays the message to Lily, shooting up from his chair so he can pace around his empty apartment.

“Okay,” Misono says, voice taking on a soothing tone he’s clearly unaccustomed to using. “Well Lily’s pretty sure the message is about Licht and Hyde so Kuro’s probably just on campus studying somewhere.”

He sounds confident, if not gentle, and Mahiru does his best to soak up that confidence. “Can you call Kranz and ask if he knows where Licht and Hyde are?”

“Yeah.”

“Okay. We’ll be there soon.”

Mahiru does as asked, and finds out in no time that Kranz hasn’t seen Licht or Hyde since last night. Licht supposedly went out to karaoke despite his early morning classes, and Kranz assumed he went to his class right after. When Mahiru tells him of the message, all of his puzzled calm vanishes.

“They’re not picking up,” Kranz says after trying to call Licht and then Hyde’s cellphone. Lily and Misono arrive a moment later, Misono’s face a flustered red and Lily’s hair a mess. Both of them listen quietly as Mahiru finishes his conversation with Kranz and the man says he’ll come to Mahiru’s apartment.

“He doesn’t know where they are,” Mahiru tells Misono and Lily where they sit on the couch with the same unhappy expression. “He hasn’t seen either of them since last night.”

“There was nothing in the newspaper this morning,” Misono says. “So Tsubaki probably has them somewhere.”

“Why?” Mahiru asks, because that is the one question that has never left his brain and never been given a simple answer. He glances at Lily, but student stares down at the phone clutched in his hand. He looks up after a moment of silence, and Mahiru’s breath catches at the obvious fear clouding Lily’s normally cheerful gaze.

“I don’t know,” Lily says quietly, and his hand tightens on his phone. “Hyde knows what to do in this kind of situation, but I doubt Licht knows.”

“Hyde knows what to do when he’s been _kidnapped_?”

“It was a…possibility,” Lily says, voice growing quieter with each ensuing syllable until Mahiru has to sit beside him just to hear him, “That got discussed when we were growing up. We were told what to do and what to expect.”

For a moment, both Mahiru and Misono can only stare at him. Despite Lily showing him how to fight, despite Kuro’s ease with knives, Mahiru can only think of the bright blood that stained Kuro’s face when he thinks of fighting. He tries to picture Hyde tied up, imagines bruises on Lily’s fragile skin, and his mind simply conjures a gaping blank.

Trying to imagine an even smaller Hyde, an even softer Lily, an even younger Kuro, being told they needed to be prepared to be hurt and bound triggers a terrible emptiness that threatens to drown Mahiru.

Mahiru’s phone starts vibrating again before he can respond, and this time the caller ID claims the call comes from the police.

“Hello?” Mahiru answers after a slight hesitation.

“Hello hello, is this Shirota Mahiru?” the voice asks with enough to cheer to make Mahiru wince. “This is Inspector Tsurugi. We met when you were brought into the station the other week.”

“Oh yeah, yes, I remember.” He glances at Misono who simply nods his head and then whispers something to Lily. Mahiru stands up and takes a single step away from the pair. “Has something happened?”

“Funny,” Tsurugi replies, though his amusement makes Mahiru’s brain scream _danger_. “I was about to ask you the same question. Think you could tell me why Kuro phoned me this morning to give me your number and then sent me a message a few minutes ago telling me to call you?”

Mahiru goes still at Kuro’s name, and his next words come out a barely comprehensible rasp.

“Kuro called you?” Lily’s gaze shoots to Mahiru and Misono grips Lily’s shoulder. “Why?”

“Like I said, I was hoping you could tell me that.”

“Where is he now? Is he okay?”

“I don’t know, and why wouldn’t he be?” When Mahiru doesn’t say anything, Tsurugi laughs. “Well, it sounds like you really do know something I should hear.”  

“What did Kuro tell you?” Mahiru finally asks. “When we were at the station.”

“Hmm,” Tsurugi hums as if thinking. “Let’s see. Lily told me what happened was connected to their family mess that happened a few years back. Kuro told me it shouldn’t be an issue, just a little misunderstanding. Given we’ve stayed out of it before, he asked me to let it drop under the promise that he would tell me if any more trouble popped up. Judging by his call and now this, I’m assuming there’s some trouble?”

Mahiru glances once more to the other two. He mouths Tsurugi’s name to them and watches Misono’s face scrunch up and Lily’s go carefully composed. When he mouths to them that Kuro called Tsurugi, Lily nods in slow understanding.

“Then tell him everything,” Lily says softly, and doesn’t try to hide the desperation in his voice. “Please.”

So Mahiru does, ending with Hyde and Licht’s presumed kidnapping. After he finishes explaining though and Tsurugi mulls over what he’s said, Mahiru is quick to stubbornly reiterate his claim that Sakuya’s involvement be a matter of special consideration. That earns Mahiru yet another laugh, though he has no idea what he has been doing to sound so amusing.

“No wonder he told me to call you,” Tsurugi says. “You sound just like he did. They had nothing to do with it, leave them out of it, I won’t cooperate if you can’t guarantee their safety, etcetera, etcetera.”

“You’re talking about Kuro?” Mahiru asks, achingly aware it’s now past the time when Kuro should be back at the apartment. They aren’t going to make it to their shared lecture at this point, but usually Kuro returns to the apartment for lunch before that class.

“Him and his siblings,” Tsurugi replies. “When I first met him, he wouldn’t cooperate with us unless we could guarantee his siblings would be left out of the whole affair. No names published when the story hit the papers, no interfering with their attempts to get their postsecondary education or jobs, no ‘dragging’ them to the station like we did with him. His information and our evidence was good enough we could make the deal, but I don’t know yet if yours is.”

Too much new information swirls in Mahiru’s mind for him to give a reply.

“Well regardless,” Tsurugi continues. “It sounds like we’ll need your help, or at least information, to find your classmates. Where are you all right now?”

“At my apartment. Licht’s guardian is on his way too.”

“Give me the address. We’ll come right over.”

“I need to find Kuro,” Mahiru says after giving Tsurugi his address.

“Just be at your place when I get there,” is all Tsurugi says before hanging up.

“Why the newspaper articles?” Mahiru asks after telling the others what Tsurugi said and that he would be there soon.

Lily slumps a little in exhaustion where he’s now replying to messages from his other siblings, while Misono sits up straighter at the news of a plan. “Were any of you ever in the news?”

“Once,” Lily tells them after staring at his hands for a long moment. “None of our names were in the paper–none of us were legal adults yet so they couldn’t name us, but Kuro also made sure the police wouldn’t release our names to anyone. He probably wouldn’t have cared if his got released, but then people could tie him to us and he was adamant we stayed out of it. Went to the trial by himself as witness and everything.”

“Trial?” Mahiru repeats, and pushes forward despite the pounding of his heart. “Trial for what?”

Lily studies him for a long time, despite the implicit trust humming in the air between all of them.

“For the arrest of our foster father,” Lily finally says.

It’s Misono who breaks the silence when Mahiru can only collapse back onto the cushion beside Lily as his head begins to ache from all of the new information trying to slot itself into the already chaotic mind map in his brain.

“For now, we should focus on helping Licht and Hyde.”

“I need to find Kuro first,” Mahiru says, and glances down at his phone.

“But Tsurugi–”

“I can give you a ride to campus,” Lily interrupts. “Then come back here. But I don’t think you should search long.”

“I’ll call him,” Mahiru says, and follows Lily out to the car.

Mahiru spends the entire car ride repeatedly calling Kuro after sending a text that receives no reply. The phone rings and rings in his ear, Kuro too lazy to have voicemail. The longer the phone rings, the deeper Mahiru digs his fingers into his thighs. Lily doesn’t say a word, just pulls into one of the campus’ parking lots and nods when Mahiru scrambles out of the car.

He makes it three steps down the cement sidewalk with Lily driving away when Kuro finally picks up the phone.

“Kuro?” Mahiru asks, stumbling to a halt despite the annoyed students behind him who are clearly in a hurry. They give him muttered curses as they move around him, but Mahiru just presses the phone tighter to his ear.

“Mahiru?” Kuro asks, and he sounds as if he hasn’t slept in three days. “I told Tsurugi–”

“I’m sorry,” Mahiru blurts, and finally lets his thoughts turn to memories of yesterday and all the ways he failed to help. “I kept telling you I was your friend and to work hard, but when you needed me the most, I didn’t even try to help. I’m the one who made you come with me to see Hyde when you clearly didn’t want to, and then I didn’t even talk to you when things went bad.”

The wind bites into Mahiru’s exposed skin, and he starts walking toward the closest building for shelter. “I didn’t listen to you because I didn’t understand what was going on. I acted like I did and you got hurt because of it. And then once you were hurt, I was too nervous to try and talk to you.”

Tucked inside the entranceway of a building, Mahiru leans against the wall and listens to Kuro breathing on the other end of the line. The sky outside is overcast and Mahiru watches their fellow students scurry to and fro. He knows several people from his year, some of them even waving at him when they pass him.

But none of them have ever embedded themselves in his life as effortlessly and comfortingly as Kuro.

“I’m sorry,” Mahiru repeats, and keeps going despite the crack in his voice. “I should have supported you even if I didn’t know what to say. I should have been a better friend.”

He waits for Kuro’s answer, but the other student is quiet for so long, Mahiru has to glance at his phone screen to make sure Kuro hasn’t hung up.

“You’ve been attacked,” Kuro begins slowly, “Nearly stabbed twice, punched in the face, dragged to the police station, and now _you’re_ apologizing to _me_?”

“None of that was your fault,” Mahiru says. Kuro snorts, and Mahiru continues. “You didn’t ask for Tsubaki to come after you, or Sakuya. And I don’t know what happened with you and Hyde, but I’m the one who dragged you there. All you’ve been doing this whole time is trying to protect me.”

Tsurugi and Lily’s words echo in his mind, and he once again sees Kuro standing in the hallway of his apartment building dripping snow, ready to flee seconds after asking for help. “Just like you did with your siblings.”

Kuro goes quiet again, and suddenly Mahiru can’t bear not being able to see his face.

“Kuro, where are you?” Mahiru asks, and heads back outside.

“I told Tsurugi you could help him,” Kuro says, and that dull tone from the other day coats his voice. “You’ve got all the information that can help them, they can save Hyde and Licht, and then none of you will ever have to hear from me again.”

Mahiru nearly trips over nothing, and once more stops in the middle of the sidewalk. This time he looks around the sprawling campus desperately as students give him weird looks when they keep walking.

“Kuro,” Mahiru says calmly despite the way Kuro’s words make him want to cry as much as he did after his mother’s funeral. “Where are you? What are you talking about?”

“You heard Sakuya,” Kuro says. “Tsubaki only attacked you because of me. Because he wants me to hurt as much as he does. He probably only took Hyde and hurt Lily for the same reason.”

“So what, if you disappear nothing will ever hurt me again?” He wants to sound angry, but he just sounds scared.

“No,” Kuro says. “But at least it will just be normal stuff. Annoying professors, too much caffeine, getting a job, bullying Sakuya into telling the truth once and awhile, ignoring all the girls who flirt with you–stuff you don’t need to fight. Stuff you can get through just by being you.”

“And what about you?” Mahiru asks, and now he’s not just looking around wildly, he’s thinking. Remembering all of the places he and Kuro have been on campus, all the places Kuro liked to nap and lounge. There’s a strange duality to Kuro’s voice, as if his words are echoing wherever he is.

Mahiru remembers a small corner at the top of dirty stairs surrounded by cold cement walls.

“Who’s going to make you eat something besides bowl-cup ramen?” Mahiru demands as he starts sprinting for the campus’ main library. “Who’s going to make you go to classes? Who’s going to help you give Sleepy Ash baths? Who’s going to give you massages because you refuse to sit with proper posture?”

“I won’t need to go to classes,” Kuro tells him as Mahiru reaches the entrance of the library. “I’ll drop out of this university and get a part-time job. Finally commit to the NEET life. I was writing the email to academic counselling when you called.”

“That won’t make you happy,” Mahiru argues because Kuro’s voice has stayed dull. A dullness, Mahiru realizes, not from a lack of emotions, but from repressing too many painful ones.

“Course it will. I won’t have anyone to boss me around, and you’ll find someone to nag who actually listens to you.”

“But they won’t be you,” Mahiru says as the door to the library staircase swings open and his voice bounces back to him. He takes the stairs two at a time. “They won’t spend hours telling me about the latest video game they’re playing, or know which conbini snacks are the best for each season, or make me take breaks from studying to marathon sci-fi movies. They won’t let me play with their cat, or give me pointers about the notes I missed in lecture, or let me sleep on them or–”

“I put my foster father in jail,” Kuro interrupts just as Mahiru reaches the final flight of steps. He pauses despite hearing similar words from Lily, but then keeps going as he hears Kuro’s voice both through the phone and above him.

“What?”

“My foster father. The one who took care of me and all my siblings. The one who taught us how to fight and use knives and where a man’s vital areas are and what to do if you get tied up. I got him put in jail and then he got killed in jail.”

Mahiru makes the final step and stares at Kuro where he’s crammed himself as far into a corner as he can. His knees are drawn up to his chest, face turned down to his knees, pale hair spilling everywhere with his hood left down.

He looks up when Mahiru steps onto the tiny landing and there are tears filling his eyes.

“He trained us to help him commit crimes.” Kuro keeps talking as if each word isn’t breaking both of their hearts. “He wasn’t a major crimelord or yakuza or anything like that. Mostly petty crimes like theft. But he made us learn how to fight and then he had us help him run jobs and run distractions and he was kind to us, but he always wanted more. He wanted more and the police started catching on when we were older and Lily just wanted to be friends with normal people like Misono and none of us would be able to go to school–and he wouldn’t stop no matter what I said.”

“So you went to the police,” Mahiru says softly, all of the conversations over the past few days slowly starting to form a clear image, like the lens of smudged glasses finally being cleaned.

“Tsurugi was in charge of the unit that was starting to piece it all together. He was starting to get the evidence he needed and he knew us and it was only a matter of time before they caught all of us. Lily, Jeje, and Hugh–they all wanted to come clean. But Hyde and the others, they loved him. He was their father, their family.”

The sarcasm in Hyde’s voice when he called Kuro his brother once more drips onto Mahiru’s skin, but he sees again the pain in Hyde’s eyes when they fought. Sees the flicker of uncertainty in the corners of his eyes, hears the hysterical notes of his laughter catching on pain created by a familial love built in the strangest of circumstances.

“So I went to Tsurugi myself,” Kuro says. He finally lowers the phone, only so he can dig his hands into his knees like claws. “I took Lily and talked to Misono’s father. I told Tsurugi I’d give him all the information he needed and stand witness in the trail so long as everyone else was left out of it and they let them transfer to Misono’s father’s care after it was over. Misono’s father would give me money to live somewhere else and I would continue to be the police’s main contact. They could keep tabs on us, but they had to leave us alone and they couldn’t interfere with us living normal lives as long as we weren’t doing anything illegal.”

Every single word is a cut to Kuro and a stab of painful understanding to Mahiru, but the words keep flowing. Kuro no longer flings them like he’s trying to use them to push Mahiru away. Instead, he simply lets them drop from bloodied lips as if he is too tired to swallow them down like he’s been doing for years now.

“‘Foster Child Turns in Criminal Father,’” Kuro intones, and Mahiru gets a chill. “Those were the headlines in the papers. I got him thrown in jail and then he got murdered and we all moved on with our lives.”

Except Kuro’s self-imposed isolation, Lily’s worried glances to his oldest brother whenever the past is mentioned, and Hyde’s desperate explosion stand in contrast to those words.

“But you still regret it,” Mahiru says, and his voice sounds hopelessly choked. “You still act like you’re a criminal.”

“He would have taken more,” Kuro whispers, and stares down at his knees. “He would have taken on more foster kids and raised them like us and he wouldn’t have stopped. So I had to–he was my father and Hyde loved him and he took care of us–but I had to _stop him_.”

He looks up at Mahiru as the tears finally fall from his eyes. “But I didn’t want him to die. I just wanted him to stop, that’s all. Not die. Not get hurt. I didn’t want anyone to get hurt.”

Mahiru opens his mouth, but can’t make a sound. “But he did, and now you and Hyde and everyone else is getting hurt, too.”

“That’s not your fault!” Mahiru interrupts, and he kneels down desperately in front of Kuro. “Choosing to turn him in, that decision is on you. But you’re the one who gets to decide if the good outweighs the bad, and all of the other stuff that happened after–none of that is on you.”

“But–”

“You said it yourself,” Mahiru continues as Kuro stares helplessly. “Everyone else kept going with their lives. They went to school and got jobs and made friends and all of that was their choice. Me wanting to be your partner was my choice. Tsubaki trying to hurt me and hurting Hyde, that’s his choice. Sakuya attacking us was his choice.”

He places one of his hands over Kuro’s. “And maybe this is all connected to what happened with your foster father. But that doesn’t make it all your fault. That doesn’t mean we can’t change anything.”

Kuro keeps looking at him and the stairwell is so cold and suddenly even the few inches separating them is too much with all of the screaming revelations hanging in the air around them.

So Mahiru stretches out his left hand to hesitantly cup Kuro’s jaw. Even Kuro’s heaving chest goes still at the sudden contact, and Mahiru’s fingers brush the soft strands of pale hair falling past Kuro’s ears.

“Just don’t run away,” Mahiru whispers, and meets Kuro’s wide gaze. “We’ll figure this out together and Tsurugi will help us find Hyde and we’ll give a kickass psych presentation next week so just–stay.”

The words push away the ones that scraped across their skin seconds earlier, and Kuro starts breathing again. Without breaking eye contact, he slowly wraps his fingers around Mahiru’s wrist where he holds Kuro’s cheek. Mahiru tenses, but Kuro doesn’t try to tear Mahiru’s hand away.

He simply holds Mahiru’s wrist as the two of them start breathing normally again for the first time that day.

When they’ve both calmed down, Mahiru swipes away a remaining tear with his thumb and Kuro closes his eyes for just a second. Then Mahiru’s phone starts ringing and he pulls away from Kuro.

He struggles to answer the phone one-handed, but that doesn’t stop him from smiling when Kuro hesitantly takes his left hand in his own.

***

Licht wakes up in dim darkness with an ache in his ribs, and instantly blames Hyde.

He hasn’t seen Hyde after he left for his part-time job yesterday night, but that’s the only explanation he accepts for the rope around his wrists and blood on his face from where someone punched him.

When he spots Hyde’s blond head a few feet away resting against the cold wall, his certainty only strengthens.

Not that Licht knew anything about his troubled family situation before Hyde’s brother came barging in the other day, but he knows Hyde can fight. Knows that he will flippantly wave away any questions about the past, will only answer questions about what some of his siblings are currently doing whenever Licht sees him texting one of them.

But someone would have to be an idiot to not see all the sharp edges and brewing violence Hyde carries with him. That is, in fact, all that Licht’s classmates see when they look at him. Only a few other people in their Shakespeare class will even respond to his comments when the professor asks for a class discussion, and they either bluster their way through while Hyde looks bored, or shut up the second Hyde starts laughing like a bad villain in a B **-** list movie.

Licht can’t decide if the ones who try to flirt with Hyde are simply suicidal, blind to anything but his looks, or both.

After all, they aren’t the ones who’ve spent the past few weeks trapped in Hyde’s company and have therefore been privileged to all the glimpses of the actual human being hiding beneath his inane grins, long-winded quotes, and flashy scarves.

Hyde is still loud and brash and mocking in Licht’s company, and Kranz gives them his _why-is-this-my-life_ smile whenever they start fighting, which usually happens in the car, after practice, on their way to class, in class, and at home. Kranz has said he’s pretty sure he heard them arguing in their sleep.

But Hyde is also sentimental and secretly uncertain and the biggest dork Licht knows. Hyde carries Lawless with him wherever he goes, and lets Licht play with the tiny hedgehog for hours with only soft teasing. When Licht carves Lawless’ name into a dog tag for him like in the army, Hyde insists Licht make one for him. He always tucks the item out of sight beneath his scarves, but he grins whenever Licht mentions it like it’s the best present he’s ever received.

He shows Licht his bedtime skincare routine when Kranz mentions Licht looks really stressed and Licht scowls at some acne. He hides under his covers when there’s massive thunderstorms. He will never stop eating cheese unless Licht drags him away. He makes them stop all the time so he can take pictures of both Licht and their surroundings, and spends half of every meal taking pictures of the carefully arranged food.

He won’t stop coming up with the most ridiculous nicknames for Licht even though they aren’t dating.

Whenever someone does something nice for him, he blinks and gives them a soft smile that distracts Licht from whatever he’s doing unless it’s the piano.

There are countless more observations Licht has made over the past few weeks, crammed into the back of the car with Hyde, sitting beside him in class, pushing him off his bed, eating at whatever restaurant Kranz takes them to, and shoving the scarves out of his face whenever Hyde tries wrapping an arm around his shoulders.

But none of that erases the fact that Hyde carries a flashing red _danger_ sign wherever he goes, nor does it change the puzzle of his Instagram.

The movement of Hyde’s head breaks Licht free of his thoughts, and the other student turns to give Licht a smile that’s only a fifth of his usual mocking one.

 

“You afraid yet, Licht?” Hyde asks, and blood trickles down the side of his head and cakes his chin.

“Angels aren’t afraid of anything,” Licht snorts. He shifts his arms where they’ve been tied behind him, tugging experimentally at the ropes. 

“No need for bravado here, sweetheart,” Hyde says, but a dullness has stolen all the laughter in his voice.

“Has anyone come in here?” Licht asks, and Hyde manages his a half shrug.

“Not since I’ve been awake. Turns out my brother and his idiotic friend weren’t lying.”

“It’s the guy they were talking about?”

“Tsubaki, yeah. I got a glimpse before he knocked me out. Even gave me the courtesy of telling me his name.”

Hyde tilts his head and squints at Licht through the dim light. “You see who got you?”

“Some old dude with red hair,” Licht says. “I think I broke his nose before he got me.”

There was so much blood, he can still feel dry flakes on his knuckles.

“Of course you did,” Hyde says, and for a split second Licht receives one of Hyde’s honest smiles filled with fondness.

“So how do we get out?” Licht asks, and that brings back all of Hyde’s loud mockery and disavowal of effort.

“We don’t,” Hyde says once he’s calmed down.

“You’re the one who made fun of Mahiru for not knowing how to fight. You’re telling me you have no idea what to do in this kind of situation?”

“The knots are solid,” Hyde tells him, and leans his head back against the wall. “And we have no idea where we are, how to get out, or how many people are in here. Not to mention your head wound will probably make you dizzy the second you stand up.”

“So you’re just gonna give up?” Licht says, ignoring the concern that flared briefly in Hyde’s voice at the mention of Licht’s wound. “Just like that?”

“I told you, it’s useless.”

“You don’t have the right to say that before you’ve even tried,” Licht snaps, and looks around the room. Bare cement floor, cold plastered walls, and a single barred window letting in the barest hints of light from an alley. Maybe a warehouse somewhere, though the place is deceptively quiet–

Hyde’s laughter interrupts Licht’s examination, and his gaze shoots back to him.

“Just give it up, Licht,” Hyde tells him, finally starting to sound a little angry. “I know you want to get out of here and be a famous pianist with adoring fans and all that, but the world doesn’t give a shit what you want. You’re stuck in here.”

“Your ‘advice’ might convince me more if you actually wanted anything.”

“Because I’m not an idiot,” Hyde snaps. “Because I know how the real world works–”

“Spare me the tenth grade, cynical bullsh–”

“The world doesn’t fucking care, Licht!” Hyde practically shouts. “It doesn’t care about you or what you want or that you’re gonna die here, cold and forgotten and stupid. It’s fickle and meaningless and it _doesn’t care_.”

“So that means you should stop caring?”

Hyde laughs, but there’s a hysterical, desperate edge to the sound, like burned corners of a blank piece of paper.

“I just fucking said–”

“Who’s Ophelia?” Licht interrupts, and Hyde goes perfectly still.

“What?” Hyde croaks, and if Licht was a softer person, he might have eased up at the surprised pain twisting Hyde’s face, as if Licht threw a piano at him out of nowhere.

“Ophelia,” Licht just repeats instead of backing down. “I’ve been on your Facebook and Instagram, you know. And I thought it was weird that you barely have any pictures of anything from before I met you even though I’ve talked to at least ten people who dated you since you started uni, and claimed you were always taking pictures. And you’re always taking pictures of me and what we’re doing, and I’ve seen _those_ on there.”

Hyde stares at him silently and Licht shifts but doesn’t look away. “I mean, most people delete their exes off social media. I understand that. But you’ve deleted _everything_. Even the random pictures of food you probably tried or those dumb glasses you’re always looking at. You’ve had an account since high school, but anything to do with anyone or anything that happened before me–you’ve deleted all those photos. Like that time was all meaningless, like you claim the world is.”

 Hyde just keeps sitting there, not moving even when the glasses slide down his nose. “Except for this girl named Ophelia. There’s pictures of her still up there, and of the things that happened while she was arounde. More than one, all from before you started uni. She’s the only one whose pictures you haven’t deleted. So who is she? Why isn’t she or her time meaningless?”

“Shut up,” Hyde gets out, and Licht just glares.

“You say you don’t care, you say the world doesn’t care, but you still have pictures of her. You still fought with your brother. You _do_ care, you just don’t want to admit it because it’s easier to laugh and call us all idiots and never try–”

“She was my girlfriend, alright?” Hyde interrupts him, leaning forward but still not trying to stand. “We knew each other since we were kids and she was my girlfriend in high school and she–”

More laughter spills from Hyde’s lips, so painful Licht half-expects blood to fall as well. “She was always so goddamn determined just like you, and she wanted to do whatever she could to change the world and help everyone, even people who didn’t deserve it.”

“You loved her,” Licht says quietly.

“Everyone loved her. They loved her so much she got accepted to some fancy change-the-world program in England over winter break in our second year of high school. Except two days after she got there, some drunk driver hit the car she was in and killed her.”

The last words are a snarl, and Hyde’s lips turn up like he wants to find the whole thing funny instead of the crying he’s doing. “She left and then died without accomplishing _anything_ , and then a month later my family turned on our father and the one person who should have loved us the most put him behind bars!”

“And then what?” Licht asks, and Hyde gapes at him. “You mourned and then just gave up?”

“It’s not giving up,” Hyde snaps. “It’s called realizing the world doesn’t give a shit so neither should you.”

“What, because bad things sometimes happen, there’s no meaning in anything?” Licht laughs because he knows the sound will infuriate Hyde and he will take anger over the blankness in Hyde’s eyes and broken note in his voice. “Because bad things happen, there’s no point in trying ever again?”

“Trying wouldn’t have stopped Kuro! It wouldn’t have stopped Ophelia!”

“Your brother is still alive,” Licht shouts at him. “You still have the love Ophelia gave you even if she’s gone. Maybe the world doesn’t care, but it gives us endless possibilities at every second of every day, none of which matter if we don’t reach out and grab them first.”

Hyde laughs loud and hysterical and teetering close to a metaphorical abyss.

“You and all your fucking poss–”

“What do you want?” Licht cuts in. “What do you really want? And stop giving me crap about attention when you only ever let that attention focus on your surface.”

“It doesn’t–”

“You can hold a conversation about anything,” Licht says. “You’ve accomplished a dozen part-time jobs. You appreciate talent in other people and you can memorize entire plays in a single night. Our professors think you’re brilliant and so would half our class if you didn’t terrify them. You won’t leave me alone even when you claim you don’t care about anything, and you purposefully riled up Kuro and you text your other siblings, even though you claim the past to be meaningless and unimportant.”

Since Licht can’t grab Hyde’s scarves from across the room, he leans forward instead and says, “You don’t lack the ability to get what you want–you just lack the courage.”

Hyde stares at him in stunned silence.

“Are you actually calling me a coward?” Hyde asks, brows furrowing like he wants to be angry, but only shock singing through his voice.

“What else would you call it? You were hurt and confused by people you loved, and now you’re too afraid to want again. You scorn me for trying, but you love being around people who aren’t afraid to dream.”

Hyde just keeps sitting there like he can’t imagine ever doing anything else. The silence fills with a heaviness that doesn’t squeeze like hurt, but presses like dawning curiosity.

“Have you ever lost someone, Licht?” Hyde asks, and even if Licht said no, Hyde doesn’t sound like he would attack Licht for it.

Still, a strange relief flutters in Licht’s chest that he can truthfully answer,

“Yes.”

“Who?”

“My friend.”

Hyde watches him and Licht lets him see everything he needs.

“You’ve never mentioned it before.”

“You’ve never talked about Ophelia.”

“So what happened?” Hyde asks, softer than Licht has ever seen, but nowhere near weaker for it.

“I promised him I would play piano.”

Hyde stares, because that is a part of the story that neither Licht nor Kranz mention, not to the media and not to each other. Hyde stares, because he has been helpless to do anything else for weeks now.

“And you’re still fucking playing it.”

“Death doesn’t change the promise I made,” Licht says, something close to gentleness in his suddenly tired voice. “Death itself might be meaningless, but that doesn’t make the life it took meaningless.”

Hyde stays still and silent for a long moment, and for once Licht knows to be quiet. Another moment slides by with only the sound of their breathing.

Then without a word, Hyde sways to his feet with his hands still tied behind his back and marches over to Licht. Licht just tilts his head up at his approach with a waiting expression, and Hyde towers over him for a quiet moment.

Then he slides down the wall and slumps beside Licht so they’re sitting side-by-side, gazing at the door leading to their apparent freedom.

“You have no guarantee any of it will work out,” Hyde finally says softly.

“You have no guarantee it won’t,” Licht replies, and Hyde just huffs in response. Licht turns toward him, and Hyde’s eyes shine with the tears and dim light. The shadows make Hyde’s whole face look stained with blood, but Licht doesn’t pull away.

“What do you _want_ , Hyde?”

“I want Ophelia back, alright?” The words burst from his lips like bullets. “But I can’t have that so I want to make her memory proud. I want to figure out why the fuck my brother acted like he did. And I want to stay with you as long as I can.”

The words swirl in the dark air before settling in Licht’s chest and making him smile.

“Well you can’t do any of that until we get out of here,” Licht tells him, and sways to unsteady feet. Hyde barks out a note of genuine laughter.

“Does that mean you’re gonna let me tag along even after we get out?”

“If that’s what you really want,” Licht says with a shrug, and glances down at Hyde. The slightly crazed grin fades beneath a smile made softer with honesty.

“‘Doubt that the stars are fire, Doubt that the sun doth move his aides, Doubt truth to be a liar, But never doubt I love.’”

“If you’re going to talk about your feelings, don’t borrow someone else’s words.”

Hyde gives another delighted laugh, and then grabs Licht’s hand to pull himself up off the floor even though it nearly unbalances both of them.

“I want _you_ ,” Hyde says, and Licht turns slightly to meet the serious eyes.

“Idiot,” Licht replies, and then manages to grab one of Hyde’s ridiculous scarves to pull him in for a hard kiss as passionate and possessive as the two of them.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> "Doubt that the stars are fire.." Shakespeare, Hamlet – Act 2, Scene 2 
> 
> NEET: a young person who is no longer in the education system and who is not working or being trained for work. Somewhat negative connotations depending on who you talk to.  
> There are three years of high school in Japan, so Ophelia and Hyde's second year was also their second last year.  
> I did briefly consider making the foster father a yakuza member, but there is no way the story or the siblings could have been as self-contained with how culturally embedded the yakuza are and with how organized and interconnected the hierarchy is.  
> Bless the canon for only vaguely mentioning Licht's friend and promise, allowing me to include it how I want XD
> 
> Anyways, hopefully I managed to adapt the canon scenes to fit reasonably in this world and they were still exciting to read. That's probably the closest to a canon scene that the story will get, and the next chapter will go a bit differently (not the least because there are no giant, magical lions in this universe). Thank you everyone for your continued support!


	9. Chapter 9

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Tsurugi, you guys can trace the call if I keep him on for long enough, right?”

Kuro holds Mahiru’s hand all the way until Mahiru’s apartment, and Mahiru doesn’t try to pull away. Cold seeps into Mahiru’s fingers when he first intertwines his with Kuro’s, but slowly warmth returns and they breathe in unison.

For the moment, that is enough.

Tsurugi and Kranz are both waiting for them along with Lily and Misono when they return. Lily rises to his feet and gets in front of them before the door even shuts fully, shoulders slumping at the lack of blood on Kuro’s body.

“I’m okay,” Kuro assures him, and glances at Mahiru before saying, “And I’m not running away.”

“I would hope not,” Tsurugi says as Lily blinks and then breaks into a grin. “Things are just starting to get interesting.”

“You guys are really okay?” Misono asks Mahiru as the pair move to take a seat on the couch. Kuro continues to grip Mahiru’s hand, so he crams himself between Lily and Mahiru, while Misono sits on Mahiru’s other side.

Both Misono and Tsurugi lift an eyebrow at their joined hands, but don’t comment. Instead they watch as Kuro removes Sleepy Ash from his backpack to let the cat wander around the apartment and turn their gaze on Mahiru.

“We’re good,” Mahiru confirms, and turns his attention to their current problem with a clearer head and calmer heart than he’s had in days. “Have there been any updates?”

“Tsubaki hasn’t contacted us again,” Misono says with a frown. “And Kranz doesn’t know where they were last night so we have no clues in that area. Plus, Tsurugi thinks the phone is stolen or a ‘drop phone’ so they can’t confirm the location.”

“Let me call him,” Kuro says, and everyone but Tsurugi gapes at him. Kuro looks at them each in turn instead of backing down despite the obvious exhaustion in his eyes. “Tsurugi, you guys can trace the call if I keep him on for long enough, right?”

“That’s right,” Tsurugi says with a gleam in his eyes that only seems to make Kuro more confident. “But you assume he’ll be interested enough in what you say to stay on the line long enough.”

“He probably knows you know the police,” Misono points out, and crosses his arms over his chest. “So he could reasonably guess what we’re trying to do.”

“He’ll know, but he’ll still stay on,” Kuro replies, and only the way he presses closer to Mahiru betrays his doubt. “He’s not trying to do this in secret. He _wants_ an audience. And he wants us to be in it.”

“But letting us know where Hyde is?” Lily asks even as a hopeful note creeps into his voice.

“There’s only one way to find out,” Tsurugi says, and stands in one swift motion. “We’ll need to do this at the station if you’re willing.”

Everyone stands with Kuro, which earns them an amused laugh but no verbal comment from Tsurugi. A second cop car waits besides Tsurugi’s, and they’re at the station and prepped for the call in under an hour. Kranz stands against a wall, unable to sit still or keep his fingers from constantly tapping the side of his leg. Mahiru sits by Kuro’s side, though they have finally released each other’s hands. Lily and Misono stand at his back while Tsurugi sits in front by one of his men doing the trace in order to give Kuro signals. He leans back in his chair like this is just another day in the office, but Mahiru can see the anticipation clouding his dark eyes.

The call goes through after only three rings and they all hold their breath at the click.

“Tsubaki?” Kuro says, and Tubaki’s crazed laughter instantly fills the air.

“What a pleasant surprise,” Tsubaki says when he calms down a little. “But I don’t feel like talking to you right now. I have another sibling to deal with.”

“You’re upset because I got him killed, right?” Kuro replies, and Lily inhales sharply. “That’s what this is all about, isn’t it? He took you in too, but we never knew. He never told us about you. And then I got him locked up and now you want to hurt me as much as I hurt you.”

“I’m doing damage control,” Tsubaki replies, “Cutting off the weak ties. Just like he always taught us.”

“You’re hurt. But doing this won’t change that. It won’t bring him back.”

“Oh?” Tsubaki says, the amusement in his voice sending a warning crawling down Mahiru’s spine. “And what will? Your apology?”

“We won’t know unless we talk.”

“A pretty sentiment,” Tsubaki says after a beat of silence. “But we both know we were made for bloody realism, not hollow beauty.”

He hangs up and the dead ring tone surges above everything else.

“Tell me you got something,” Kuro says when Tsurugi turns to examine the screen his partner stares at.

“Of course,” Tsurugi replies with a grin that instantly shoves away the heavy atmosphere pressing on them. “And it matches one of the five possible locations we’ve have for him.”

Tsurugi snorts at their stares. “You didn’t honestly think we wouldn’t look into the matter after the fiasco with Sakuya a few days ago, did you?”

“Somehow, I still hoped,” Kuro mutters, but the glare he gave Tsurugi before is nowhere to be found.

“You gave us enough of an incentive to start searching. We tracked Sakuya when he left your house and marked out any possible locations of interest. Went through all the records of old contacts and hideouts from our first investigation.”

“So we can save them?” Mahiru asks, ignoring all the darker implications of being watched in favour for the bright flash of hope gleaming in the air between all of them.

“ _You_ aren’t going anywhere. Me and my men will go get them.”

“And me,” Kuro adds, which has both Lily and Tsurugi frowning. “He responded to my call, if he sees me wandering around nearby he’ll respond to that too.”

“Or you’ll scare him off,” Tsurugi’s blond haired partner snorts.

“Don’t be so pessimistic, Yumi,” Tsurugi says with a wave of his hand and an intense gaze for Kuro.

“Someone has to be the pragmatism to your self-destructive ass.”

“We still know how to fight,” Lily breaks in quietly. “It’s not like you’d be sending in a completely untrained civilian as bait.”

“I’ll need to talk to the rest of my squad first,” Tsurugi says after a moment of silent consideration in which Yumi’s disbelieving stare only grows angrier. “Then we’ll see if any of the siblings can be of use.”

“We could be bait too,” Mahiru says, stomach clenching at the thought of all his friends going into this dangerous situation while he sits on his hands waiting for a phone call. Just like when they sent him away from the hospital and he waited among a sea of relatives he didn’t know for the inevitable bad news about his mom’s fate.

Mahiru hesitates before his next few words, but he would rather be standing beside an angry Kuro than alone with just the memory of a calm Kuro for company. “If Tsubaki wants to hurt the siblings, then he might be interested in using us against them.”

Kuro stiffens, but before he can snap at Mahiru, Yumi jabs a finger at him.

“Absolutely not!” Yumi says, but throws the words in Tsurugi’s direction. “Highly trained fighters who have a deep connection to this is one thing. But inexperienced, university students are completely out of the question.”

“We _might_ let you wait in a van,” Tsurugi cuts in when Misono scowls and almost looks ready to back Mahiru up. “Maybe. Honestly, do you really want your boyfriend worrying about you when he’s already scared for his brother and trying to keep a calm head?”

He directs the last sentence at Mahiru, but stands up before Mahiru can respond. “Now, everyone but Kuro and Lily go wait prettily in the lobby for us.”

They go, but only after Kuro nods and Mahiru sees in his gaze that he’s already been forgiven for his impulsive comment. Kranz steps outside briefly to make some more calls while Mahiru and Misono wait in the lobby as patiently as the two of them can. Mahiru makes up stories about the people who pass through to amuse Misono just like Sakuya always does, and Misono teaches him to play chess on his phone app when Mahiru starts to worry about his friend.

Awhile later an older cop with a grandfatherly smile comes over to give them both a glass of water. Awhile after that, Kranz comes back inside with a tired but encouraging smile for both of them. Awhile after that, Yumi and another cop they don’t know come out of the room and inform them Tsurugi and the siblings have already left to begin the rescue operation. There will be several more operatives of course, and they’ve already alerted paramedics to be on standby.

“For the record, I still think this is a terrible decision,” Yumi tells them. “But Kuro and Tsurugi seem to think you’ll cause less trouble in our care then out sniffing around and possibly in Tsubaki’s crossfires. More than that, you might be able to convince that friend of yours to come into our custody without a fight.”

Both Mahiru and Misono shoot their feet, but Yumi holds up a hand as he continues. “But you’re staying in an unmarked van far from the fight, and you will _not_ make any action unless we approve it. Once we’re in the van, I want you to text your friend something that might convince him to turn himself in, and I will read it over first to make sure it doesn’t jeopardize our operation.”

Mahiru nearly bristles, but the knowledge of Kuro and Lily placing themselves in danger, as well as the thought about the two that have been kidnapped, has him nodding his head placidly. Kranz is asked to return to Licht’s apartment and wait there for updates, and Kranz frowns but goes along easily with the admittance that a civilian like him wouldn’t be much help. Misono purses his lips and worry makes the questions he asks in the van even sharper than usual, but Yumi doesn’t seem to mind giving out a few short details and brisk reassurances.

The bulletproof vest they put on both Misono and Mahiru while in the van is more nerve-wracking than reassuring, as is Yumi’s reminder that the vest makes them far from invulnerable.

“Hell, if these guys grew up like Kuro,” Yumi says, “and are as prepared as we think, they probably chose bullets that will get through. And it can’t stop a simple knife.”

A surreal sense creeps over Mahiru the more Yumi talks, and the closer they get to Tsubaki’s potential location. Yet the warm air and cramped space in the back of the van is stifling, and so he continually oscillates between fear for his friends and a strange numbness.

Mahiru sends Sakuya a text message the second the van stops and Yumi starts up the radio to communicate with the others.

_Sakuya, do you know anything about Licht and Hyde disappearing?_ is the message Mahiru writes. _Please, it’s not too late to get out of this mess._

Mahiru receives no response, and he and Misono sit side by side in relative silence with only the occasional crackle of the radio and Yumi’s murmured response to break the tense quiet. Time oozes by and Mahiru keeps shooing his thoughts away from the memories of a similar waiting he did when they didn’t know whether his mom would live or not.

Yumi, at least, doesn’t make much attempt to hide his emotions like all of Mahiru’s relatives did, swearing under his breath at any complications, or smirking when he receives good news. He only grunts at them when they make an attempt to ask a question, but Mahiru finds that simple acknowledgement more grounding than all of the sickly sweet smiles or careful distractions his uncertain relatives once offered.

Both Misono and Mahiru start when Yumi finally takes his headphones off and jerks his chin toward the doors of the rear of the van.

“They want me to take you out there,” Yumi tells them. “Sounds like we got our targets and your friend even popped out of hiding.”

They follow him out cautiously while still peppering him with questions about their friends’ conditions. Yumi keeps a loose grip on the butt of his gun despite his assurances that everyone has suffered only minor injuries.

The streets they walk through are mostly quiet, a border of a small residential area melting into a few closed down factory buildings with their cracked parking lots. Five minutes of walking brings them to the perimeter the police have set up around one such building, and they earn a few curious looks from a small group of civilians when they duck under the tape that has been placed around the scene.

They have to walk another ten minutes before they reach the cluster of police cars and the two ambulances that have been called. Mahiru and Misono try straining their gazes toward the entrance, but Yumi firmly guides them to a police car on the very edge of the cluster. Mahiru stops fighting the guidance when he catches sight of the green hair amidst all the blue and black of the police.

“Sakuya!” Mahiru calls to his friend. He stands among the police with handcuffs around his wrists, but his whole body tenses for a fight. When he catches sight of Mahiru, though, he stares for only a second before his body slumps.

“So they weren’t lying for once,” Sakuya says, sparing the scowling police officer gripping his elbow a glance.

“You got my text?” Mahiru asks as Yumi stands at his back. Sakuya gives him a nod and exhausted smile.

“I’m tired of trying to figure out what the right choice is,” Sakuya says, sadness making Mahiru’s throat ache despite the lack of wounds on Sakuya’s body. “So I figure I’ll just let them be the judge of my actions.”

The police officer starts to put Sakuya in the back of the car just as Misono suddenly darts away from them toward the factory building. Yumi swears and starts after him, and when Mahiru turns to watch, he spots the two siblings Misono had seen approaching.

All of Mahiru’s fear blows away like the white seeds of a dandelion in the wind of Kuro’s approach. He cradles one of his arm and blood trickles slowly down the side of his strained face, but he gives Mahiru a small relieved smile when he reaches the pair.

“They actually managed to keep you out of trouble,” Kuro says, and Sakuya grabs the edge of the car door to prevent his full confinement at Kuro’s presence.

“Is everyone okay?” Mahiru asks, moving close enough to touch. “Are you?”

“Yeah,” Kuro tells him, surprise lifting his tired voice high. “They’re gonna take Licht and Hyde to the hospital but we got Tsubaki and everyone’s gonna be okay.”

“Just Tsubaki?” Sakuya asks sharply, and that earns suspicious looks from both Kuro and the police officer.

“And the people inside like you,” Kuro says. “A couple weird dudes, a chick–”

“What about a red-haired man?” Sakuya presses.

“Something you wanna share with the rest of the class?” Kuro asks, all the hostility of their first meeting returning in a single second.

“There’s a man named Higen,” Sakuya tells him. “Explosives expert. Did you get him?”

Kuro looks to the police officer who only grumbles for a second before asking Tsurugi over the radio about the men they’ve captured. At the same time, Kuro takes a couple steps back toward the building to give it another survey, and Mahiru follows beside him without thought.

The only warning is the narrowing of Kuro’s eyes and a gleam like sunlight glinting of a shard of a glass bottle. Then the whole world explodes as Kuro wraps throws his arms around Mahiru.

Cement hits his back and heat envelopes his front and for a long moment Mahiru can hear nothing but the rushing of blood in his ears.

Reality comes sweeping back in a second later, and the noises hurt more than the burst of sound that came with the whirlwind of hungry flames. Sirens are ringing, people are screaming, and the loud, unfamiliar bursts of gunshots rise above everything else.

Then hands grip his arms and Kuro pulls him to unsteady feet. Even more blood streams down Kuro’s face, but he starts dragging Mahiru forward without hesitation.

“We have to move, Mahiru!” Kuro tells him, eyes wide with pain but clear despite the smoke and shouting swirling around them. Mahiru lets himself be pulled along, despite Kuro’s grip on his hand making him realize distantly that some of his fingers are probably broken.

The ground near their feet cracks and Kuro pulls Mahiru even faster. The area around the previous cluster of police cars is chaos at their backs, and Kuro pushes them toward a couple of civilian cars looming nearby for shelter. Five steps stretches between them and the shelter when Kuro shoves Mahiru forward before whirling around.

Mahiru stumbles and turns as well just in time to see a man smash a gun right into Kuro’s face.

Kuro sways back and Mahiru starts forward, the instincts Lily has been slowly ingraining in him somehow managing to rise above the ones he was born with screaming for him to run far, far away.

With the gunman’s attention locked on Kuro, Mahiru manages to get a punch on the gunman and one hand on the cool gun. But the gunman grabs his hand a second later, and then Mahiru’s fingers really are broken.

Kuro lunges to his aid as Mahiru falls to his knees while two guns dangle above his head. The objects and people swim in his flickering vision and for a second the guns look like the knives Kuro once handled with a practiced ease.

A gun goes off again and Kuro hisses as his drops from his fingers. His fist collides with the man’s face, but he can’t commit to his offense when so much danger comes from a single slip in his defense.

Somewhere in the distant, Mahiru can hear Misono’s muffled shout, but he can’t stop watching Kuro shove death away from them again and again.

Mahiru blinks and Kuro kneels on the ground with blood on his lips and a newly ignited fire filling his pale gaze with defiance.

Mahiru blinks and remembers what Yumi said about the vests not making them anywhere near invincible.

Mahiru blinks and suddenly the ending is as simple as the beginning.

There is Kuro. Bleeding, fingers inches away from a gun, and a brilliance that could change the world if he is just given the chance and support.

There is the gunman. Eyes cold, fingers steady on the trigger, and capable of shooting off only one bullet in the time it will take Kuro to grab his gun.

There is Mahiru. Broken fingers, whirling thoughts, and a calm acceptance of his own lack of skill and experience compared to both Kuro and the gunman.

Adrenaline spikes in Mahiru’s bloodstream and drags all of his memories of his training with Lily to the forefront of his mind. Adrenaline reminds his broken body how Lily showed him to move to disarm someone, and Mahiru’s fumbling attempts to imitate him. Adrenaline lets him see Kuro’s rare smile once more and remember the warmth Kuro’s presence gave him.

There is Kuro.

There is the gunman.

There is Mahiru.

And there is a glittering, gleaming love unfurling inside Mahiru’s chest that brings a smile to his lips even as the pain of the bright future he will no longer see brings tears to his eyes.

He makes his screaming muscles move one last time, and shoves himself between Kuro and the gun.

There is a single shot and then a simple darkness.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please don't hurt me.
> 
> Bulletproof vests are made out of strong non-woven and/or woven fibers so the material stops a bullet similar to how a net will stop a tennis ball or volleyball. This means there is a small chance of a bullet getting through the vest like in this case given they are actually bullet-resistant. A serrated bullet, ones that have a hard tip, or are fired at a high velocity will get through the fibers and right through the bullet proof vest.
> 
> No citizen except hunters are allowed guns in Japan, and only after a very long registration period. Even police don't usually carry them. 
> 
> Apparently tracking a call is fairly easy if the person is using a registered phone. Harder if the phone is stolen or disposable, but still doable. 
> 
> I promise not to make you wait too long after that ending.


	10. Chapter 10

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The smoke settles like a cloud around Kuro’s head when he finally resigns himself to a seat closest to the doors leading to all of the operating rooms.

The waiting room of the emergency room is chaos and the smell of smoke is everywhere. It follows Kuro into the ambulance, drifts at his heels as he follows the police and stretchers into the hospital, hangs off his shoulders while he argues with Tsurugi about where he can and cannot go, and sears his eyes when Tsurugi insists Kuro and Misono stay in the waiting room with an officer just like every normal civilian while the others undergo emergency surgery.

“You know there’s nothing you can do in there,” Tsurugi tells Kuro while the smoke slowly fills his lungs to a choking point. “And I need to get a handle on everything that just happened before we make a move. At least be grateful I’m letting you stay here for a bit and not insisting you go stay at the station.”

The station is where Tsubaki and most of his men have been taken, Kuro’s siblings and new friends the ones who took the brunt of the injuries when the explosives went off. Higen is the only one of Tsubaki’s men who needed to be admitted to the hospital, his injuries courtesy of Kuro and Tsurugi rather than Higen’s own destruction.

The smoke settles like a cloud around Kuro’s head when he finally resigns himself to a seat closest to the doors leading to all of the operating rooms. One of Tsurugi’s close men, Junichiro, stands by the door and offers them a sympathetic smile that Kuro ignores. Instead he grips his knees until his nails dig painful half crescents into the skin, and relearns how to breathe through the echo of violence.

Misono will not sit, pacing back and forth in front of him with arms pressed tightly across his small chest. Lily blocked Misono from the brunt of the explosion much like Kuro had with Mahiru, except Kuro’s youngest sibling had been standing much closer to the biggest cluster of explosives when they all went off. Misono suffered a bump to his head from being thrown to the ground, but Lily now rests on the operating table with burns all along the back and arms he put between his smaller friend and the destructive force of their past.

_“But we both know we were made for bloody realism, not hollow beauty.”_

Two of his siblings being patched up is a reality Kuro knew once, though they have always been careful to treat their wounds at home far from questioning eyes. Forced to sit and wait, not being able to take stock of the injuries himself nor help at least bind the wound, is helplessly unfamiliar.

Waiting to hear about the condition of one who is not a sibling used to bleeding and healing, but just as dear to him, is unmapped waters in the middle of raging storm with a burning mast.

“Shirota will be okay,” Misono says once, though Kuro doesn’t look up. “All of them will.”

Kuro closes his eyes because Misono’s voice lacks all his usual superiority and yet Kuro can hear the echo of Mahiru’s endless optimism even over all the screaming grief.

“I can’t deal with this,” Kuro says even though they all know he has finally reached the point where he _can_.

A second of silence ticks by and then Misono reaches over to give his shoulder a clumsy squeeze. Kuro opens his eyes and looks at the stubborn person the smallest of the siblings had chosen to leave the shadows to protect.

Kuro nods his thanks and Misono releases him to pace some more, and then answer his phone. Kuro watches him and then watches the normal people in the room and then settles for watching the still doors that separate him from the injured.

Misono’s words bounce around his head, and the memories of Mahiru build steel braces to support them.

But Kuro has years of living as a tool and living with abandonment and self-isolation that work to resist the happiness he’s recently found. And Mahiru doesn’t yet understand the darkness that nestles in his chest and drags him beneath still but dark waters sometimes without reason. They are waters that cannot be drained with just one promise of affection, nor even weeks of support. Perhaps one day they will fade into harmless puddles that will give Kuro no more trouble than the occasional wet sock.

If Mahiru dies now though, not only will the waters never fade, they will rage and deepen into something that drowns anything that dares go too close.

Another half an hour slides by as normal people move around them and Misono leaves the building briefly when his conversation with his father on the phone becomes too heated. Junichiro nods his permission and he’s only gone for a moment before the doors of the hospital open once more to admit someone Kuro recognizes.

“Moriko?” The name comes out a whisper, but Kuro’s sister walks toward him with a steady gaze nonetheless. Junichiro shifts beside him hesitantly for the first time and if Kuro wasn’t stuck in a hospital waiting room, he might have been amused by the other man’s discomfort in the face of his sister’s familiar, unamused expression. 

She stops right in front of Kuro, hands on her hips as the long ends of her black dress and bright purple hair make people stare.

“What mess have you gotten yourself into this time?” she asks.

“Are you mad?” Kuro replies, because they have always been the only ones she will tolerate teasing about her so-called resting bitch face.

The trick, most of them learned, is to watch her eyes. In them Kuro finds all the sadness and exasperated fondness she holds for him in that infinite moment.

Then she leans forward and grips his shoulder with all the comforting strength she possesses.

“I’m not mad,” she says, “even though you are apparently one of the biggest idiots I know.”

“Well none of us can ever be as smart as you,” Kuro responds, old lines from the snatches of light they grasped even amidst the darkness of their childhood.

“Obviously not. But you could at least _try_ to have a smidge of common sense.”

Junichiro shifts again near them, but this time because of his earpiece cackling to life. Kuro’s gaze shoots to him instantly as the man speaking an affirmation a couple times. Then he turns to the waiting pair of siblings, but the doors leading to the inner rooms of the hospital burst open before he can get out a word.

“Moriko!”

They look up at Hyde’s cheerful shriek and then suddenly he stands in front of them, giving Moriko the first genuine grin Kuro has seen since the imprisonment of their foster father. Licht watches the scene unfold in front of him from the inner doors unsmiling, but the newly stitched up boy looks far less distant than he did standing apart and arrogant on the stage with his piano.

Moriko is less loud but just as enthusiastic, wrapping Hyde in a massive hug and tousling his hair without any restraint. Despite all of the fear and exhaustion, a smile tugs at Kuro’s lips. Moriko has always been the freest of all of them with her physical affection, but it’s impossible to be jealous of her easy confidence when she shares her love equally with all of them.

It’s impossible to be jealous when her previous foster parents tried to steal all of that love, and she just kept shining, both out of chosen spite and a natural tendency none of them could touch.

When the pair separate, though, Kuro enters Hyde’s line of vision and the grin fades from Hyde’s pale face. Two bandages spread across his cheek and his lips are swollen, but no concussion clouds his gaze. His red glasses dangle from his chest pocket, and the memory of the tacky purple glasses they all gave Hyde for his first birthday at their foster house explodes with all the vividness of fireworks, backlit by the unsuspecting happiness of childhood.

“Hyde,” Kuro says before Hyde can use his words to wrap himself in prickly armour or Kuro’s years of hiding can turn him running again.

Before either of them can forget the relieved shock on Hyde’s face when the police brought him out of the building to where Kuro stood, or the way Kuro squeezed his hand for a silent minute before leaving him to the care of paramedics while Kuro found Mahiru. “I–thank you. And I’m sorry.”

Hyde blinks, and a slow smile starts to spread across Moriko’s face.

“When I turned him in, you could have pretended you were okay with it and act like nothing ever happened. Or you could have just told all of us to fuck off forever and left. I wouldn’t have blamed you. But you argued and you kept arguing and you held onto us and also never once accepted it. You didn’t forgive me and you hated me and because of that, I couldn’t just act like it never happened. And I don’t think I’d be a very good person if I did.”

“You’re thanking me,” Hyde said slowly, “For not forgiving you?”

“Yes?”

“That’s the dumbest thing I’ve heard in months!”

“Well, I mean.”

Words are clunky in Kuro’s mouth, from both a natural inclination toward silence and a long period of swallowing down anything concerning the past. But Mahiru’s stubborn presence in the past week has made Kuro accustomed to trying, and Hyde is the little brother whose love for them broke him.

“It made me feel really shitty for a long time,” Kuro starts. “But that made me eventually hold myself accountable for my actions and what it caused. I had to grow and I think that’s probably a good thing even though it’s exhausting? And I mean, I didn’t really handle it well for a long time but now–”

The brilliance of Mahiru’s smile fills his mind, and the soft laughter he has heard spilling from Lily’s lips almost every day in the past few weeks echoes in the spaces in his head. The warmth of Sleepy Ash’s fur, soft with the constant cleaning and brushing offered at Mahiru’s apartment, lingers on Kuro’s hands even in the cold hospital, and his spine stands taller after being surrounded Misono’s confident aloofness. His phone rests heavy in his pocket, filled with messages from all his various siblings for the first time in months.

And Hyde stands only a few inches away, listening with a growing vulnerability he only used to show them in the dim light following his nightmares.

“I wouldn’t change anything,” Kuro says, “If it meant changing the good that came from all the bad.”

Hyde gapes at him and the conversations of the other people in the waiting room crash around them, but no more words will form in Kuro’s dry month.

“You came to rescue me,” Hyde finally says, and Kuro doesn’t fight the simple reply that springs to his lips.

“You’re my little brother.”

Hyde stares and stares, until tears start to form in his eyes and he wipes viciously at his face.

“Stupid pain meds aren’t even doing their job,” he sniffs as if neither Moriko nor Kuro know he’s suffered much worse injuries before. Licht rolls his eyes behind Hyde and Misono returns to the lobby with wide eyes as Hyde steps into the hesitant but warm circle of Kuro’s arms.

“I leave for one bloody day, and you both get all grown up on me,” Moriko says when the two of them pull apart.

“You were gone a month!” Hyde protests, and Moriko leans over to ruffle his hair once again.

“You need to learn some references from this century, Hyde.”

Kuro opens his mouth to tease that even Mahiru knows more than Hyde, but that brings back the reason for the cloying smell of too many nervous people in a too small place, and Kuro’s voice dies.

The others notice though, and with the tentative repair of their bond, Hyde steps toward him to offer what comfort he can.

“I still don’t know what’s happening with the others,” Hyde says, turning so he can jab a finger in Junichiro’s direction. “ _They_ wouldn’t tell me anything.”

“That’s because you and your friend were getting stitches,” Junichiro replies, with only a hint of exasperation.

“Bullet got Mahiru,” Kuro bites out, stomach knotting once more at the recent memory. “Serrated. Went through the vest and into his chest.”

“Placement?”

“It shouldn’t have hit the lungs or heart,” Kuro says after making himself consider the placement of the wound and his memory of the blood even more closely at Moriko’s calm question he heard more times than he could count as a teenager. Moriko nods, and Kuro tries to take strength from her satisfaction.

“And Lily?”

“He got burned by the explosion,” Misono tells them as Licht finally comes over. Moriko looks angrier by the second and Misono trips over his words when he adds, “He was trying to keep me from the blast.”

“Well,” Moriko says when everyone falls quiet at the heavy words, “It’s not like a few burns will stop Lily from flirting with everyone at the bar. Or them flirting back.”

“I can never decide which is worse,” Hyde says with a watery attempt at bravado.

“Definitely the first,” Misono claims, and Hyde tilts his head a little at Misono’s quick declaration.

“I never pegged your naïve soul as one for the nightlife,” Hyde says, and something like his usual grin touches his lips. “I wanna see it.”

“No.”

“Come on, we can all go out as a group.”

“Angels like me don’t sully ourselves with night life,” Licht replies before Misono can. That has Moriko turning to Licht, and Kuro has never seen anyone look so delighted to see the pianist before.

“Oh, you _are_ adorable,” she says with a wicked smile, and wraps an arm around his shoulders. “But don’t worry, we’ll protect you.”

“Hey, I saw him first, sis!”

“Did you call dibs?”

“Yes,” Hyde says, jutting out his chin defiantly while Licht and Misono stare.

“Dibs, really?” Misono asks.

“The International Dibs Protocol is a very sacred system that must be upheld,” Kuro intones, because the sibling banter they lacked for so long is a momentary distraction from the death waiting behind closed doors.

“You never called dibs,” Licht tells Hyde, lips twisting a little at the word. Hyde grabs his hands without even looking at the university student.

“Well I am now,” Hyde declares, “Officially.”

“And I thought you guys were strange when you were younger,” Misono sighs just as Tsurugi steps through the inner hospital doors.

In a second all of them are tense again, Hyde’s grip on Licht tightening and Kuro surging into Tsurugi’s personal space with a brewing violence. The smoke thickens once more.

“No need for that kind of look,” Tsurugi says, raising his hands at him. “Both of them are out of surgery now and the doctors are reasonably sure they should be fine. Obviously they’re going to need extended supervision–”

“When can we see them?” All of them chorus at the same time, except Moriko who simply crosses her arms over her chest.

“ _You,_ ” Tsurugi points at Hyde and Kuro, “Need to come with me back to the station so I can get everyone’s statements and clean up this whole mess.”

“I want to see Mahiru first,” Kuro insists, drawing himself up to his full height. Hyde clings to Kuro’s arm without letting go of Licht’s hand and gives Tsurugi a furious stare.

“I’m not going anywhere either,” Hyde tells him, and before anyone can start arguing in full, Moriko neatly steps in between all of them,

“Tsurugi, right?” Moriko asks, and Tsurugi starts.  

“And you must be Moriko?” Tsurugi says, for once a little uncertain at finally meeting the single foster sister in person.

“Yeah. Look, I understand your priority is getting this all sorted. But I really think you’ll get the most cooperation if you let at least one of us stay. Lily won’t _panic_ panic if he wakes up here alone, but he might panic.”

“We were never supposed to let ourselves end up in a hospital,” Kuro says, and Moriko nods.

“It will freak him out and then you’ll have to deal with that too. But if we’re there, we can stop that from happening and make it easier for someone on your side talk to him.”

Tsurugi narrows his eyes at her, but even he looks as exhausted as the rest of them.

“Okay, you can stay,” Tsurugi tells Moriko, and the others all start protesting their dismissal despite their trust in Moriko. “Look, I’m not saying this just to be the bad guy or for my job. It would really be better for you to just let this blow over a bit before–”

“Officers!”

Everyone turns as one at the new voice, and Kuro goes perfectly still at the appearance of the new arrival. Hyde glances at him, but Kuro can’t open his mouth let alone get words out as the new man approaches them.

Kuro has never seen him in person, but he saw a picture once, and the man has the same stubborn yet kind eyes Mahiru possesses.

“My nephew,” the man says, and Misono’s mouth drops open. “Where is he? Is he alright?”

Tsurugi’s gaze flickers to Kuro, and he doesn’t know if wants to thank or punch the officer for trying to get him out precisely before this meeting.

“It was spotty for a bit, but he should make a full recovery,” Tsurugi assures Mahiru’s uncle, and the man’s shoulders slump a little.

“I don’t understand,” Mahiru’s uncle says, iron in his voice despite the relief in his eyes. “How did this happen? Mahiru’s a good kid, he’s never–”

“Sir?” Kuro makes himself interrupt, makes himself step toward Mahiru’s most important family member despite everything inside him screaming for him to run. “It’s not Mahiru’s fault.”

“Who are you?” Mahiru’s uncle asks, and Kuro can hear his innate friendliness even beneath the suspicion and grief.

“I’m Kuro. I–”

“You’re Kuro?” Mahiru’s uncle asks, and Kuro stares.

“I–yes–I–” Kuro doesn’t know what to do with the recognition, or the strained smile that breaks across the man’s face.

“Mahiru’s told me a lot about you,” Mahiru’s uncle tells Kuro, and there’s something knowing in the man’s gaze that makes Kuro once more incapable of speaking. Mahiru mentioned to Kuro he had told his uncle–often working in Kyoto for full months now that Mahiru is in university–about Kuro in his regular emails.

Kuro thought he meant a single sentence about their new living arrangements, not whatever now glitters in the other man’s eyes when he looks at Kuro.

“When are they letting people see them?” Misono asks, apparently taking pity on Kuro’s sudden floundering while the siblings can only stare.

“They’ll be letting family see them in an hour or so,” Tsurugi tells him, and gives Misono a considering look.

“Great,” Mahiru’s uncle says, and Kuro starts when the man places a strong hand on Kuro’s shoulder.

Tsurugi gives him a bemused expression, but doesn’t bother to argue when Mahiru’s uncle claims, “He’s family.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 10 points if you can guess what vague fandom/culture references they made this chapter
> 
> The kanji for “Moriko” can be literally forest-child, and I gave the Mother that name because of the forest she finds her Eve in and the apple tree. I’ve only read the manga chapters up to the point where the Mother gets shot (hence if she now has a name, I didn’t know it), but it took exactly 2 panels for me to fall in love with her and want an entire arc about her so yeah, had to include her (also Hyde’s reaction to her in manga is literally the cutest thing and I am Dead).


	11. Chapter 11

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “I told you to stop digging your own grave,” Kuro tells him so quietly Mahiru thinks he might be dreaming.

There is a moment when Mahiru struggles up through the sticky strand of unconsciousness long enough to be confused but not long enough to panic. Consciousness doesn’t stay long enough for him to remember the gunshots and smoke, but he catches sight of the hospital walls and tries moving enough to trigger searing pain in his chest.

Then hands are holding his own steady and a familiar face swings into his line of sight.

“I told you to stop digging your own grave,” Kuro tells him so quietly Mahiru thinks he might be dreaming.

Laughter catches in Mahiru’s dry throat. His jaw will barely move, but Mahiru tries anyways.

“Sorry,” he mumbles, eyes already sliding shut. “Wouldn’t change it.”

The only response he notices before falling under again is the tightening of Kuro’s hand on his.

***

The first time Mahiru wakes longer than five minutes and with enough coherency to figure out where he is, Misono sits in the chair to his right. He starts as Mahiru takes in all of the beeping noises and stale chemical smell swirling through the dry air. He flexes his fingers and toes experimentally, winces at the pain in his chest even pain meds can’t fully mask, and twists his head when Misono says his name.

“Misono,” he croaks out at the stark relief lining his friend’s face and the loosening of his curled fists. Misono helps him sit up and take sips of the water resting on the bedside table. A flash of memory of someone holding his hand briefly lingers on Mahiru’s skin, but then he’s strong enough to speak with his fuzzy mind.

“The others–” He starts, but Misono waves his hand before he can get further.

“All of them are okay,” Misono assures him. “We got Hyde and Licht out with minor injuries. Lily’s still under care here but he woke up before you. All the others have been discharged. They’re more worried about you.”

“Sakuya?” Mahiru asks.

“I don’t know all the details about the case yet. But it sounds like they’re going to try and get some leniency for him.”

Mahiru squeezes his eyes shut briefly as the words settle something hot and tight in his chest.

“Kuro?” Mahiru asks when he opens his eyes again, even though Misono already established the siblings are okay.

“He isn’t going to be happy he’s not here,” Misono says with something close to an eyeroll. “Hyde and Licht finally managed to drag him away for food.”

“How long?”

“It’s been a little more than a day.” Misono pauses, rearranges his hands in his laps, and then says carefully, “Your uncle arrived right after your surgery finished.”

Mahiru starts at that, but Misono’s scowl and aborted hand gestures force him not to strain himself.

“It’s fine,” Misono says. “The others have been keeping him company and…entertained.”

“Misono, that doesn’t make me feel much better,” Mahiru tells him, which earns him the first smile Misono has cracked since Mahiru woke.  

“He _almost_ likes people as quickly as you so,” Misono says, and Mahiru smiles at the thought. “So I don’t think you have anything to worry about.”

“Mahiru.”

It’s only three syllables and yet Mahiru has never heard anyone sound so wrecked before.

Both he and Misono turn toward the doorway to see Kuro staring at them, framed by Hyde and Licht on either side. Even Licht appears visibly relieved, but both he and Hyde look to Kuro for direction.

But Kuro just keeps standing there, hands shoved into the pockets of his stained jeans, and Mahiru’s mouth is too dry to form any words.

“See,” Hyde breaks the silence a second later, slinging an arm around Kuro’s tense shoulders. Mahiru’s eyes widen when Kuro doesn’t shake him off, but still can’t speak. “I told you he’d be fine.”

“And Misono and me and literally everyone else in this hospital,” Licht says, meeting Mahiru’s gaze with a respect that wasn’t there before.   

Everyone turns to Kuro again, but he just keeps standing there like he’s forgotten how to be a functional human in the face of the stark hospital room and Mahiru’s undisguisable injuries.

“Big bro’s being really shy,” Hyde says, a light teasing that finally earns a flicker of emotion from Kuro other than jagged worry. “But he’s really a big sap and he was super worried.”

“Look who’s talking,” Licht snorts, and if Mahiru’s thoughts weren’t all sticky and focused on Kuro, he might have examined that a little closer. Hyde blushes and stutters out a protest that doesn’t sound convincing to anyone.

Misono getting to his feet interrupts their loud arguing that lacks all the pained vitriol Mahiru heard in Hyde’s voice when he saw Kuro in that concert hall. He gives Mahiru one last smile and then moves to the group in the doorway with hands gesturing toward Licht and Hyde.

“We should go check on Lily,” Misono tells them. “And let Mahiru’s uncle know he’s awake. Kuro can take care of Mahiru.”

Licht and Hyde readily and loudly agree, following Misono out the door with one last hug from Hyde to Kuro. Then it’s just the two of them and Mahiru struggles to sit up a little straighter while he studies Kuro.

Mahiru hasn’t stopped looking since that first day he laid eyes on Kuro, and so it takes no time to catalogue all the smaller differences in Kuro’s appearance. Note the way the circles under his eyes are even darker than normal, notice the scared tension running through his shoulders despite his slump, and take Kuro’s constantly moving fingers into consideration.

Then Mahiru looks past the surface level of a first glance and finds all the things he can in the unblinking gaze Kuro gives him, and the way he holds himself at a careful distance. Looks past the bandages that are nowhere near as numerous and big as Mahiru’s to see just how rough the past twenty four hours have been.

The sound of a gunshot hangs in the air between them with the same violent rejection of the future’s possibility as Kuro’s constant _I can’t deal with this_.

Mahiru deals with it the only way he knows how.

With an outstretched hand and soft name on his lips.

He can’t raise his hand more than a few inches and his voice cracks on Kuro’s name, and something gives in Kuro’s unwavering stare. He crosses the room in seconds to grasp Mahiru’s unbroken hand, and Mahiru can finally inhale without his breath catching on all the ragged pieces left in the wake of the explosion.

“Are you okay?” Mahiru asks instinctively, and Kuro stares at him with something close to his usual amused disbelief.

“You got shot in the _chest_ ,” Kuro says, and his voices comes inches from breaking once more. “And you’re asking if _I’m_ okay?”

“I’m not the one with a history of being dismissiveness about my wounds,” Mahiru’s fingers curling a little tighter around Kuro’s.

“I’m starting to wonder about that,” Kuro tells him, but when Mahiru’s lips twitch into a brief smile, any bits of cheer Kuro conjured disappear.

“Mahiru,” Kuro says again, helpless, relieved, scared, and suddenly there’s too much space in between them. Suddenly Mahiru needs to be holding Kuro with both hands, needs him pressed against him, warm, solid, and _alive_.

Suddenly Kuro needs the same, clutching fistfuls of Mahiru’s nightgown and pressing his face to Mahiru’s shoulder when Mahiru tugs on his hand.

“I _can’t_ ,” Kuro says, Mahiru’s shoulder muffling his words but not the pain in his voice. “I can’t deal with losing you.”

“You don’t have to,” Mahiru tells him, holding Kuro as tight as his weak body can manage. “I’m here, I’m fine.”

“But I almost did. You nearly got yourself _killed_ –”

“Because I can’t deal with losing _you_ ,” Mahiru blurts, and Kuro’s breath stutters in and out. He doesn’t reply though, and Mahiru doesn’t try to explain himself. They just keep holding on until Kuro’s back aches and Mahiru’s arms are dead weight but neither of them feel like screaming.

When Kuro lets go of him, his hand trails down Mahiru’s arm until he’s holding Mahiru’s hand again while sitting at his side. The exhaustion already starts pressing on Mahiru’s shoulders again, but the one pinpoint of contact with Kuro keeps his eyes wide open.

“You’re seriously okay?” Mahiru presses when Kuro doesn’t say anything. “You were bleeding at the scene.”

“Cuts and a minor concussion,” Kuro says with a shrug, continuing before Mahiru can argue about his continued lack of self-care, “I made sure to get everything checked out. Everyone was very insistent.”

“Everyone?”

“Hyde, your uncle, Tsurugi, Moriko–that’s our sister–Misono, even Lily when he woke up.”

Mahiru thinks of Hyde standing in the doorway with arm around Kuro and a joke on his lips, and smiles.

“So you’re really okay,” Mahiru says. “I mean, you and Hyde have worked it out and your sister’s even here–”

“You’re going to want to meet her, aren’t you.”

“You’ve already met my uncle,” Mahiru points out, and even through the pain and morphine, the thought causes a strange flutter in Mahiru’s chest.

“Yeahhhhhhhh.”

“Was that okay?”

Kuro’s face scrunches and Mahiru has to bite his lip to keep from smiling even more.

“He’s like you,” Kuro finally says.

“Good thing or bad thing?”

“Good,” Kuro says softly, and Mahiru’s throat goes tight under his gentle gaze. “Definitely good.”

They fall quiet for a bit and Mahiru watches as Kuro examines Mahiru’s hand like he often does with Sleepy Ash’s paws. Mahiru just smiles as his fingers are gently poked and turned over, ignoring the pain from his other hand.

“Is Sleepy Ash okay?” Mahiru asks when his eyes start drifting close again. Kuro’s face goes all scrunched again and he frowns at Mahiru’s hand.

“They wouldn’t let a cat into the hospital,” Kuro says, and his voice sounds so morose, Mahiru starts to laugh.

The motion pulls on his strained muscles and he gasps in pain only a few seconds later, but he’s still grinning when Kuro tells him to stop hurting himself. Tears prick the corners of his eyes, but he can still squeeze Kuro’s hand when the other student looks concerned. Kuro grumbles something about idiots but he helps readjust Mahiru’s pillows and he doesn’t let go of Mahiru’s hand. He doesn’t leave the room even once Mahiru goes quiet again, and he sits in the chair like he’s prepared to live there until Mahiru can leave.

In the fragile peace of the hospital room, with Kuro’s warm hand holding Mahiru steady, he remembers his last thoughts before being shot.

“I’ve never really dated anyone before,” Mahiru blurts, and Kuro slowly looks up at him with a slight frown.

“Obviously,” Kuro says, but sudden nervousness weakens the jab. Mahiru would glare, but it’s hard enough getting normal words out right now, let alone these ones.

“Right, so I don’t really know how any of this works.”

“Okay,” Kuro says. For a second Mahiru wishes Kuro would be more helpful filling in the blanks, before his brain supplies the image of Kuro cramming himself into a corner and Kuro turning away in soaking wet clothes and Kuro shrugging away his injuries, and Mahiru realizes maybe he _can’t_ finish Mahiru’s thought.

“I like you, Kuro,” Mahiru says simply, and Kuro stares as Mahiru’s face grows hot. “In–in a dating way.”

Mahiru half-expects Kuro to tease him for the phrasing, but Kuro just keeps staring at him with his mouth slightly open.

“You what,” Kuro finally gets out. Mahiru opens his mouth, energy to be convincing nowhere to be found, but determined to try regardless.

“Mahiru!”

Both of them start at the sound of Mahiru’s uncle’s voice, and Kuro hastily pulls his hand away from Mahiru. His uncle comes over with such a relieved smile, Mahiru can’t even get upset for the interruption. Kuro quickly offers his seat to Mahiru’s uncle, who claps Kuro on the shoulder to keep him from leaving the room entirely.

“Inspector Tsurugi told me you can’t really talk about what happened yet,” his uncle says, taking the seat while Kuro hovers with his hands shoved in his pockets. There are circles under Mahiru’s uncle’s eyes too, but he gives Mahiru the same affectionate smile he always has. “But I’m just glad you’re okay.”

Mahiru can only reassure and speak with his uncle for another five minutes before unconsciousness drags him back under.

***

When Mahiru wakes again, just his uncle sits in the room with him. Nighttime, and his uncle tell him the siblings are all somewhere around the hospital or at the police station doing statements.

“They’re an interesting bunch,” his uncles says, and Mahiru can only nod his agreement.

“Do you like them?”

“I do,” his uncle says with a slight smile. “I could be wrong, but they seem to have a very atypical response to physical injuries and violence.”

“That’s one way of putting it,” Mahiru says with a strained smile. His uncle nods but he doesn’t look upset, just thoughtful. Mahiru waits for a final judgement or piece of advice, but all his uncle says is,

“He really cares about you.”

***

Mahiru meets Kuro’s sister on the second day and he instantly understands why she intimidates Lily. But she holds herself on the edge of Mahiru’s bed with a smile, and the purple hair swept back into a ponytail falling across her shoulder gives her an almost elegant look.

The frayed tails of her black dress are just as ridiculous as all of her siblings’ clothes.

“Hi?” Mahiru says when she keeps staring at him. “Nice to meet you. Um, Moriko, right?”

She hums her assent and tilts her head.

“You’re scowling a lot less than my other brother’s boyfriend,” she says.

“You haven’t given me a reason to scowl?”

“That hasn’t stopped him,” she replies happily.

“Also, Kuro and I–”

“Please don’t waste your breath with technicalities,” she cuts him off, and Mahiru swallows a little at the gleam in her eyes.

“Kuro hasn’t said anything,” Mahiru says instead, and Moriko softens imperceptibly at that.

“He will,” Moriko replies him, and the promise in her voice is equal parts reassuring and terrifying. “You’re the dumbass who brought him out of his idiotic isolation.”

“Are–are you angry?” Mahiru asks with a frown. “Cuz you say that but you also sound kind of happy?”

She blinks at him, mouth falling close on her next few words. She tilts her head and says,

“Maybe it’s all the drugs you’re on.”

“No, I think you just really care about them.”

The drugs can’t stop him from trying to understand people, but his injuries sap his energy for arguing. But Moriko just stares at him a little longer, and then draws her legs up onto the bed so she’s a little closer to him.

“Well that would make two of us,” she says, and her subtle smile promises an unspoken alliance Mahiru would be a fool not to accept.

***

“Technically, Sakuya is an accessory to kidnapping,” Tsurugi tells Mahiru when he visits in the hospital. Everyone else has been removed from the room and Yumi stands guard at the door. Mahiru can hear Kuro and his siblings grumbling even from outside but no one comes in.

“Technically, he gave himself up before the fighting happened,” Mahiru replies. His mind stays fuzzy from the injury and pain medication, but he sits up a little straighter.

“Technically he was still on the premise with the knowledge that Tsubaki meant harm to people.”

“You let Kuro and his siblings off last time.”

“They were minors who were stuck in a toxic foster home. And the crimes they took part in never got as far as kidnapping.”

“Sakuya–”

“Is a victim of abuse who was unaware of the extent of his caretaker’s activities,” Tsurugi interrupts. “Is the story we can tell. Tsubaki has agreed to take the fall as much as he can. But you need to prepare yourself for Sakuya doing some time.”

Tsurugi climbs to his feet with a smile and says over his shoulder,

“I’ll see if we can get him an escorted visit here before shit hits the fan at court.”

***

“You’re an idiot,” Sakuya tells him.

“I think that’s my line this time.”  

“Just promise me when I get back you’ll have done something about the raging UST.”

“You’re not going anywhere,” Mahiru says desperately, and Sakuya just smiles.

“I have an honest future waiting for me now. What’s a little detour along the way?” 

***

On the fourth day, Lily manages to hobble into Mahiru’s hospital room. He sits on the edge of Mahiru’s bed with a slight hunch and patches of his blond hair shaved off. Misono, who has been alternating with Mahiru’s uncle in keeping Mahiru company in the face of Kuro’s absence, stands by Lily’s shoulder. He keeps glancing toward the door like he expects someone else to come in and attack Lily.

Judging by the look on Misono’s face, that person would lose in seconds.

“I’ve been told you were quite the hero,” Lily says softly.

“So were you,” Mahiru replies, and Lily gives him a small smile.

“Do you regret it?”

“Wouldn’t change a thing,” Mahiru says, and Lily’s smile grows wider.

“I’m glad we’re on the same page,” Lily says. Misono shakes his head a little, but the affection in his eyes is unmistakable.

“How are your burns?” Mahiru asks. Mahiru can just see the edges of blisters creeping above Lily’s shoulders and around the sides of his neck, but the majority remain out of sight on his back. Every time he shifts slightly he winces, and his eyes are too big in his too thin face.

“As expected. But I’ve discovered hospitals have pain meds that actually work.”

“You’ve never been before?” Mahiru asks despite the implication from several conversations that the siblings had received severe injuries in the past. Lily stops himself from shrugging with a wince.

“Our foster father had a rule against it. Hospitals ask too many questions.”

“Well that doesn’t matter anymore,” Mahiru says, indignant anger sparking between his ribcage despite his pain. “Not that you should need one after all this but you know.”

Lily hums his assent and Misono shoots Mahiru a grateful look.

“I also heard some congratulations are in order,” Lily says after a moment of peaceful silence slides by. His smile turns into a grin and Mahiru’s face heats at the laughter in his eyes.

“Are there cameras in here that I don’t know about?” Mahiru asks, and Lily laughs.

“The siblings are just incurable gossips,” Misono says with a sour look that fades slightly when Lily turns to him with a smile.

“Don’t worry, Misono, I’ll help you find a nice girlfriend or boyfriend after I help Mahiru.”

“You will _not_.”

Lily starts teasing in earnest and Misono argues with crossed arms, but they keep their voices soft enough that Mahiru can drift off with a smile.

***

“Is there some kind of initiation ceremony happening I wasn’t aware of?” Mahiru asks when Hyde and Licht show up alone in his room a few hours after Lily leaves. Hyde grins as much as before and Licht keeps scowling, but their edges seem softer.

Mahiru doesn’t miss the way Hyde occasionally reaches out to grab Licht’s hand.

“Am I not allowed to be curious about how the civilian is holding up?” Hyde complains, and Licht snorts. At a look from Licht, Hyde rubs the back of his neck and a blush stains his cheeks. “Also, bro said you’re the one I should thank.”

“Kuro did?” Kuro still hasn’t reappeared and Mahiru tries not to let it bother him given the revelation he dropped on Kuro. Except the heart monitor goes crazy every time Mahiru remembers what he said and his hospital room is too cold without Kuro.

“They’ve been texting,” Licht says.

“Thank me for what?”

“You know–” Hyde flutters his hands a little but keeps going. “We’re talking now. And the stuff that happened before–dealing with it–he said it’s cause of you.”

“You and Kuro are the ones who talked it out. That decision was still yours.”

“But you helped.”

“I was trying to be a good friend,” Mahiru says, and gives him a smile. “But I’m glad you guys worked it out.”

“So when are they discharging you?” Hyde asks after another minute of blushing and mumbling.

“Hyde just really wants to go on double-dates,” Licht says, which causes a whole new round of spluttering on Hyde’s part.

“I do not! I just said it would be fun to go to festivals with everyone!”

“I think that sounds like fun,” Mahiru says, taking pity on Hyde who instantly grins and scoots closer.

“Right? It’s been ages since we all went and now Kuro has someone who will make him less of a drag and Moriko’s actually in town and–”

Licht doesn’t look impressed and keeps arguing, but he doesn’t say he won’t go. Mahiru doesn’t bother trying to break in to point out that Kuro hasn’t even officially agreed to date. He also doesn’t break in to verbally confirm that all of Kuro’s various siblings have officially accepted Mahiru into their fold.

Instead he watches Hyde’s shameless display of enthusiasm and Licht’s easy understanding underneath his verbal rejection. He thinks about Moriko perching on the edge of his bed, remembers all of Lily’s light laughter, and the glimpses of conversation between the other brothers on Kuro’s phone.

He always did want siblings.

***

For the first time since Mahiru has met him, Kuro carries a school bag with him when he enters Mahiru’s room on the fifth day of Mahiru’s hospital stay. Mahiru hasn’t seen him since his confession, though Hyde and Licht made a point of staying for hours in Mahiru’s room the other day.

The day Kuro returns is the first Mahiru feels truly alert when he wakes, able to sit up straight without losing his breath.

“I brought the pysch power point,” Kuro mumbles as he places the bag carefully on the empty space of Mahiru’s bed. He doesn’t look at Mahiru. “I’m almost done the presentation but I figured you’d want to look over it.”

“We still had a week’s worth of research and slides to do,” Mahiru says, and Kuro huffs.

“I know. I did it while you were sleeping and you’ve slept _a lot_ the past few days. Making me look like the productive one.”

Which would explain Kuro’s bloodshot eyes and the way he keeps rubbing them. It would explain why his rough voices sounds scratchy and his hands shake when he opens up the laptop.

“Technically you’re allowed to leave the hospital after a week,” Kuro continues as he opens the presentation. “Everyone recommends two weeks for a non-strenuous job and we can ask the prof for an extension, but I figured you’d be stubborn and insist we do it anyways.”

“Kuro,” Mahiru says when he keeps rambling, and Kuro finally glances up at him. Scared is not the right word for the wide set of his eyes, but neither is any other word Mahiru can summon. Overwhelmed, maybe, but not running from it.

“I’m not good at this,” Kuro admits.

“At what?”

Kuro makes a vague gesture to the entire room and Mahiru raises an eyebrow.

“Feelings, emotions,” Kuro replies. “Everything.”

“If you–”

“But I know you’ll try your best,” Kuro continues, and Mahiru’s mouth snaps shut. “So I’m willing to do mine.”

“Kuro–”

“But I’m still _me,_ ” Kuro says a little desperately. “Getting Tsubaki didn’t change that. I mean, I changed a bit because you’re a horrible influence, and I want to do what I can to fix my mistakes but I’m still–I’m–”

“You’re Kuro,” Mahiru interrupts when Kuro starts flailing for words. He holds out his hand and Kuro takes it after a second of hesitation. The simple contact alone makes Mahiru smile, and he brushes his thumb over Kuro’s knuckles. “That’s enough. That’s who I like.”

When Kuro settles a little, Mahiru adds,

“You’re already aware I’m not perfect either.”

“Painfully so,” Kuro quips. “You’re gonna give yourself a stress aneurysm one day.”

“You help, you know,” Mahiru tells him, and then grins. “Even when you’re being a mess.”

“I am an _organized_ mess,” Kuro replies. “There is a reason to all my madness.”

“Your reason is laziness.”

“I don’t see your point.”

Mahiru rolls his eyes and Kuro smiles a little before turning his attention to the laptop screen. Mahiru watches him for a moment, his heartbeat thudding hard even as a soothing calm settles over him.

“Kuro,” Mahiru says, and his voice suddenly sounds too loud in a too small room. “Can we kiss?”

Kuro nearly sends the laptop crashing to the ground as he jerks at Mahiru’s words.

“Only you,” he croaks when he has a firm hand on the laptop and looks up at Mahiru.

“What? It’s less confusing if I simply ask and you answer.”

“So you’re really serious,” Kuro says instead, and Mahiru lets him see all his exasperation.

“Isn’t that what we just talked about?”

Kuro stares and Mahiru waits because he will not put Kuro in a situation he’s uncomfortable with. He charged ahead without listening before and nearly lost Kuro to his past and all the traps of regret Mahiru couldn’t fully grasp. He may not ever be capable of fully understanding the struggles the siblings or Sakuya went through, but that doesn’t mean he can’t listen.

When Mahiru just sits there patiently, Kuro slowly sets the laptop down at Mahiru’s feet. With one hand still holding Mahiru’s, Kuro raises his other to carefully cup Mahiru’s jaw. Mahiru keeps himself still even though the places where Kuro’s fingers touch his skin burn after only a few seconds.

Kuro waits another second, as if giving Mahiru one last chance to back out, and then he finally brings their lips together.

Mahiru has had exactly two kisses in his life before. The first at a high school party with a girl with too much lipstick and too little experience. The second was in first year of university at a club when Mahiru was too drunk to stand straight, let alone make-out properly, and he threw up outside only twenty minutes later.

This kiss is easier and simpler and Mahiru wants to ask if Kuro has ever kissed anyone else before, but finds his attention narrowing to only the parts of contact between them. Soft and chapped lips, tangled fingers keeping him still, and the slide of fingers into his hair. This kiss is gentle sighs and lazy mornings and unspoken promises of unconditional support. This kiss is every cliché Mahiru has ever heard about romantic love made real and beautifully incomprehensible.

Then Kuro deepens the kiss, and Mahiru knows he will never be able to let go.

***

Two months from then, Mahiru will go with Kuro to visit Tsubaki. Mahiru will stand straight despite the chill in the air and the unsympathetic glances of the guards while he waits for Kuro to be done. Kuro will not say much when he comes out half an hour later. He will hold Mahiru’s hand silently in the car while Lily drives them back to Mahiru’s apartment, and curl beside Mahiru on the couch when they finally get back home.

Only after two movies, much petting of Sleepy Ash, the decision to stay the night, and half an hour of making out, will Kuro tell Mahiru what he discussed with Tsubaki. He will not look happy while he does it and he will have nightmares that night that wake Mahiru and make Kuro cling to Mahiru after. Then Kuro will return to the jail for another visit two weeks later with Mahiru right beside him.

But before all of that happens, they have their final psychology presentation.

When it is their turn to present, it is the only time every single student in the room has been paying apt attention to a single presentation. Mahiru’s pretty sure he catches at least seven students with their phones propped up to film, though they are trying to be sneaky with all the glares their professor keeps throwing out. He knows for a fact that Ryusei is filming from the back because Mahiru wanted video evidence in case their professor tried to give them an unfair grade.

No one interrupts, no one’s phone goes off, no one coughs, no one even dares to breathe too loud for fear of missing a biting comment.

But Mahiru is mostly focused on staying on his feet and delivering his lines through the dull pain of his healing wound and the sweat gathering at the nape of his neck. Kuro keeps a careful eye on him, and says all of his part without even glancing at the cue cards. Both of them agreed the best metaphorical middle finger to their professor would be to deliver a flawless presentation.

After their very last slide though, as if Kuro felt bad for not giving their classmates a show, or as if he wanted to finally have his own act of rebellion, he gently grabs Mahiru’s good shoulder and presses a firm kiss to his lips.

At least five girls shriek. Incredulous laughter spills from someone’s lips. Mahiru hears Ryusei shout _yes, Mahiru!_ before he’s drowned out by the applause. Their professor is glaring when Kuro pulls away from Mahiru, and there are definitely a dozen students filming now without trying to hide it.

The video is on YouTube in less than fifteen minutes. Lily and Hyde won’t stop teasing Kuro about it. Moriko sends Mahiru a voice message with Kuro clearly trying to get the phone back in the background from where they now share an apartment.

At their weekly visit, Sakuya tells Mahiru he expects at least five more once Sakuya finishes his term in three months. Ryusei and Koyuki keep insisting Mahiru bring Kuro to more of their lunches. Misono rolls his eyes and Licht claims PDA is beneath him despite Kuro walking in on him and Hyde multiple times. Mahiru’s uncle just laughs when he hears, and reminds Mahiru that Kuro and all his siblings are invited for Saturday night dinner.

And anytime the incident is mentioned, Mahiru gives Kuro a kiss that’s better than all the ones before.  

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I couldn't find any solid info on how much time someone would get for being an accessory to a kidnapping so I had to wing it with how much time Sakuya would be charged even if they were doing their best to absolve him of most responsibility. 
> 
> *falls over* I can't believe this is done and I can't believe it got this long and I can't believe how wonderful and supportive you have all been. Thank you so much for taking your time to leave this kudos and comments and show just how truly wonderful this fandom is. I hope you enjoyed the ending of the story!!
> 
> I'm gracer222 on Tumblr if you ever wanna chat (though my messenger is broken atm but my askbox is open)

**Author's Note:**

> In canon most of the Servamps are pretty much a mess, but I think we can all agree that if they were ever in university they would be a Mess. 
> 
> I know that Kuro's catchphrase of 向き合えねぇis usually/literally translated as "I can't face this" but I thought that having him say "can't deal" gets a similar meaning across while also sounding natural for a university student speaking English. 
> 
> I have no explanation for this beyond the idea of how Kuro and Mahiru meet in university would not leave me alone. 
> 
> ***EDIT: You guys have all already left such kind and fun compliments that I am currently working on a chapter 2 and a vague plot.
> 
> My updating schedule will depend a lot on my work schedule and motivation but I do have ideas. 
> 
> Hope you enjoyed!


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